


Monkees Rising: The Dreams that Come

by Nezclaw, Rochelle_Templer



Series: Monkees Rising [2]
Category: Flight Rising, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore mention, Gen, apparel subject to change w/out notice, beep beep here comes the ANGST MACHINE, images not to scale, large predator goes hunting, make of that what you wish, mike has a bad dream, not sure if it's enough to count as 'graphic' though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-07 23:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 36,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nezclaw/pseuds/Nezclaw, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: Mike has some difficulty coming to terms with his new existence as a dragon.





	1. Chapter 1

For the first time since they arrived, Mike slept. And dreamed.

His dreams were chaotic, jumbled. Micky being twisted and deformed by the magics he now possessed, the magic wielding him, instead of the other way around. Peter summoning a vicious storm that ripped away the trees leaving vast destruction in its wake… Davy laughing as the jungle burns around him...

He is running. Running through the jungle in a desperate panic. There was something in the shadows hunting him… chasing him… his heart pounds in his chest as he stumbles on. The jungle gives way to civilization, he is on earth, he’s at the pad, slamming the door. He’s safe, right? It can’t follow him here… someone knocks at the door, he opens the peephole, an inhuman eye stares at him.

They’re at the table. They’re having lunch. He bites into his sandwich but cannot swallow. It tastes wrong even though he made it. It’s his favorite but he cannot stomach it. He opens the fridge, pulls something out and bites into it… it is warm and delicious and he devours it hungrily. He wants more. He opens his eyes. He is covered in blood, not his blood, can taste it on his tongue, it is the best thing he has ever tasted. He turns. They are staring at him in revulsion.

What is _wrong_ with you Mike? Micky asks, disgusted. What kind of _freak_ eats like that?

Mike tries to explain but his words come out garbled. The others turn to leave. Mike reaches out to them but his arms are sprouting feathers and they spread over his body.

What are you some kind of _animal_? Micky asks, lip curled in disgust.

Mike shakes his head, trying to deny it, but he can feel himself growing larger, his clothing being reduced to shreds as wings erupt from his back. Micky’s words echo in his ears…

_Monster… Freak… Animal… what is WRONG with you Mike?_

Mike tries to protest but cannot form words… he roars denial, a wordless snarl of rage… and he lumbers off in pursuit, chasing them through the dense jungle, moving easily, confidently as he stalks a thin figure stumbling over branches and foliage… and the jungle gives way to a wide place of strange dwellings of wood and metal…. and he pursues the figure to one such dwelling, the door slams in front of him but there is an opening and he puts his eye to it, sees his quarry staring in terror… he slams into the door…

* * *

Micky was restless.

He’d been working on figuring out the text for making wards that Nisha had given him for a while and wasn’t making much progress. Granted, he knew that he had it harder than most because he was still learning how to read the elaborate dragon script language. Still, he had hoped that he would have at least gotten a rough idea how to pull this off.

The drummer let out a long sigh. Maybe he should take a nap for a while and see if that would clear his head. Maybe he had just been at this for too long. Decision made, he went up to where he knew Mike was sleeping.

Once he saw him, Micky smiled. It was a bit odd to keep sleeping draped around Mike’s shoulders, but it seemed like both of them benefited from it. Now, Micky couldn’t imagine sleeping any other way. He carefully flew over and slowly and gingerly settled around Mike’s neck and shoulders.

* * *

Mike sees the beast burst through the door, it advances on him, he backs against the wall…

He sees his quarry cowering in fear… He lunges for the kill.

He flinches away from the strike… he feels the creatures warm breath… and it is gone. He opens his eyes.

The pad is empty. The door is undamaged. Everything is as it should be.

The dream changes. He is sitting on the couch, watching a scary movie with the guys. Micky is snuggled up close to him. Peter and Davy are nearby. The creature on the screen turns to face them, it sees them.. It emerges from the screen roaring. They don’t think it’s real, they think it’s some neat special effect, but it is real. It’s going to hurt them. It wants them.

Mike can’t allow that. He surges to his feet with a snarl, wings outspread, teeth bared…

“MINE!” he growls as he lunges for the monster from the TV… and his teeth close on air. There’s nothing there. Why is he biting at something? It makes no sense. Why didn’t he try to punch it? He backs away, sitting down on the couch in embarrassment. Micky wraps his arms around him and the fear he felt fades. If Micky’s ok… that’s all that matters.

That’s all that matters.

* * *

Micky closed his eyes and gently squeezed Mike before settling in completely. However, when he tried to sleep, something kept bugging him. Like a gnat flying around the ear of his subconscious. It wasn’t loud or big. But it was enough to keep him from really sleeping.

Something was bothering him…and yet it was not him. It was as if he felt a tiny bit of discomfort in sympathy to something else. Or someone else. Someone who felt bad.

Micky opened his eyes back up. He didn’t really know why, but suddenly he was starting to wonder if Mike was having a bad dream. Mike hadn’t slept much, if at all, since they landed in Sornieth and become dragons. Rationally, he was certain that there was no way he could really know if Mike was having a nightmare.

And yet, something inside him was convinced that that was what was going on. Either way, Micky figured it couldn’t hurt to act as if Mike was. So he gently squeezed Mike again and moved his head up close to Mike’s ear.

“Mike, it's ok, babe. It’s all right. I’m right here,” he murmured.

* * *

Mike can feel Micky there, his presence as reassuring to the Texan as the Texan’s presence is to Micky during his bad dreams.

“Micky…” Mike breathes softly.

Perhaps it is because of the magic surrounding the Spiral, perhaps it is something else, but Mike’s dreams change again. He is sitting downstairs, facing the statue he found earlier. The statue looms over him, but he is not intimidated, rather, he feels comforted by it.

Its eyes glow with a faint brown light from underneath his hat which is sitting on its head. It emanates an aura of almost paternal affection, and yet Mike isn’t bothered by it, though he would normally be. It resonates with something inside the Texan, something strange and yet familiar all at the same time.

He can feel the stone around him, the cracks and chips in the pieces, the boulder outside, the dirt underneath the tiles, the gaps where tree roots burrow into the ground… he feels it all.

_Is this… magic?_

**_Yes, my child._ ** A voice that isn’t heard so much as felt, vibrating his bones, rumbling like the ground in an earthquake.

* * *

 Micky could swear that he felt the Texan relax beneath his coils. Satisfied that his dreams were probably no longer plaguing him, Micky closed his eyes again and quickly fell into a light slumber.

Even in sleep, however, Micky could sense a magical energy around him. Something was there. It had to be Mike. It was different than the energy Micky felt. When he touched and drew upon his magic it felt…it felt otherworldly. Cosmic. Chaotic. And yet with its own crazy quilt order. Micky felt like his was the magic of possibilities.

This though, this was different. It was ordered. Solid. Dependable. Most of all, it was old. Old and unshakable. And yet, homey and comfortable.

Micky smiled even wider in his sleep. This had to be Mike’s magic. It was so much like the Texan, it couldn’t be anything else.

* * *

It didn’t even occur to Mike to be scared. Nor did he feel particularly suspicious.

 _Who are you?_ he wonders.

**_I am the Earthshaker. The first of the gods here. Welcome, my child._ **

Mike frowned slightly. God _s_? Even in the state of suspended disbelief that came with dreaming that bothered him somewhat.

 **_Perhaps first is the wrong word. It would be better to say I am the eldest of the Eleven. I am the incarnation of the element of Earth here on Sornieth. I saw you when you touched my statue._ ** there is a rumble of… laughter?

**_I like the hat._ **

Mike wasn’t sure what to think about that. An entity that called itself the Earthshaker liked the hat he’d put on its-

**_His._ **

his statue? Er…

_Why me?_

**_You have the strength of the Earth, child. Do not doubt it. It is there. You have my blessings. Sleep well._ **

_What…?_

The dream faded and he slipped into a deeper sleep.

* * *

Micky fell into a deeper sleep too. His dreams were the usual ones. Dreaming of home. Playing gigs together and getting into all kinds of misadventures. And then there were the usual dreams of his family. Of his mom working around the house or making dinner. Of his sisters playing with their dolls and begging their big brother to help them out.

These dreams were comforting even though they were also ones that left him with an aching sense of loss. During these dreams, Micky almost felt like he was spending time with his family again. Letting them know that he was ok and to not worry about him. He wished that he could let them know what happened and perhaps that wish was shaping his dreams.

He had no way of knowing if any of this reached them. But it took away some of the melancholy to imagine that maybe it did in their dreams, at the very least.

* * *

Mike dreamed of stone. The strength and endurance of the ancient mountains born of upheavals of the crust, slowly being worn away by the wind, rain, and growing things. He dreams of that dust settling, being buried and compressed into a new form, of being crushed under monstrous pressures so that the pieces become one again. He dreams of stone being born of fires hotter than any Davy could create, emerging into the fresh air, of minerals crystallizing into ordered matrices that grow almost like a living thing.

He dreams of stories embedded in the stone, tales of things that no living dragon has ever seen alive, only in the impressions left in mud that has hardened over eons.

He felt the slow, restrained patience of the plates moving on a timescale he can barely comprehend, the precariously balanced forces that are just barely held in check… that, should they slip, would do so in a way that would make an unchecked forest fire look like a mere cooking accident.

* * *

Micky blinked his eyes open again. He hadn’t been asleep very long, but then again he hadn’t been that tired either. Still, he felt incredibly lazy and didn’t want to move from where he was. He was far too comfortable for that.

So instead, he buried his face into Mike’s fluff neck and thought about his latest lessons with Nisha. He was still amazed at how good she was at using her magic. Peter, he seemed to be pretty good at figuring out things on his own, unless he was getting training on the side they didn’t know about. Heck, even Davy had improved quite a bit thanks to Ember’s training. Although, unfortunately, the Skydancer enjoyed using that magic to singe him.

Micky sighed. He knew he was getting better at using his magic, but he still wished the progress was going at a quicker pace. It made him wonder how Mike was doing with figuring his magic out.


	2. Chapter 2

Mike blinked blearily. Talk about strange dreams. Had Peter spiked the food when he wasn’t looking? He shook his head slightly, yawned, rubbed his face-

No. No it couldn’t be. He… no!

_ He was still a dragon. _

Still green, still covered in feathers, still winged, still with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth.

“No…“ he moaned, drawing his wings around himself and… and Micky. Micky was wrapped around him. Micky was there.

“Micky…” he whimpered softly.

“Yeah, babe?” Micky said. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

Micky uncoiled himself so he could slither down and look at Mike’s face. The Texan was definitely upset about something. He gave him a gentle squeeze as he nudged his head against Mike’s.

“Did you have a bad dream?” he asked. 

“I… I thought that if I could sleep that it would be better,” Mike mumbled. “I’d wake up… and everything would be normal, y’dig? It’d turn out to’ve just been a-a bad trip or somethin’.” He nudged Micky back, gently, one hand stroking his coils.

“An’… yea, I was havin’ a bad dream.” he confessed, hunching his shoulders, feathers slightly raised to stave off the sense of vulnerability he felt.

Micky nodded. “Yeah….I’ve had dreams like that too. Where I’m with my family and I think everything’s normal again….and then I wake up and I’m…well…..”

He didn’t know what else to say. Micky had felt pretty bad too the first couple of times that happened. It had gotten easier after that. Sure, he still missed his family, but he slowly stopped having that jarring sensation of waking up and being shocked that he was still a dragon. He hoped Mike would get over it soon too.

“What, um, what were you dreaming about? I mean, that was bad?”

Mike fluffed his feathers up further and drew his head closer to his body.

“I…” he swallowed. “We… we were eating lunch. Back home.” He usually wasn’t one to share his dreams… but he needed to know that it was just a dream. He needed Micky to tell him that it was all a dream.

“An’…. an I made a sandwich… and I couldn’t eat it. It…”  his voice cracked slightly. “It made me sick. An’…” He rocked back and forth, “I find somethin’ in the fridge that i can eat… an’ an’ i’m covered in blood and it’s not my blood an’ it tastes so good… an’ y’all are lookin’ a’ me like I’m some sort… some sort of _animal_ ," he chokes out with a strangled sob. “Or a _freak_.”

Micky felt his heart ache as he squeezed Mike again. The dream sounded horrible to be sure, but it also sounded like Mike was worried that his friends looked at him differently now. Because he was a different kind of dragon than what they were….and because of what that entailed.

“Mike…I know you have to eat meat because, well, that’s the kind of dragon you ended up becoming,” Micky said. “Davy and Peter, they get that too. And that’s ok, you dig? It’s not like you’re going out and killing people for fun or whatever. You’re just hungry. You’re eating to survive. And um, it feels good. To not be hungry and have enough to eat.”

Micky nuzzled against Mike’s neck and tried to smile at him.

“You’re not a freak, Mike,” he added. “Pete got it right…for once. The dragons here, they’re people. A different kind of people, but still people. So, you’re still a person too. You’re still you. Just different.”

Mike nodded. “I… I know. but then… I was running through the jungle. I was being chased by somethin’… but at th’ same time… it was like I was chasing…  _hunting_ something. Then I’m back on Earth… I get to the pad… lock the door… and I’m smashing through the door after something… I can’t escape… I have it cornered…” His voice catches. 

“And it’s me.”

Micky didn’t know what to say to that. It sounded like a terrible dream. To be running from yourself because you think you’re a monster. Even after becoming a dragon, he hadn’t had any dreams like that. And he wasn’t entirely sure what Mike’s dream meant or what would be the best thing to do.

Or maybe… maybe it didn’t mean anything at all. Micky wasn’t convinced that dreams always meant things, even if sometimes they did. 

“Mike,” he said. “Maybe… maybe this is just because you’re feeling bad, ya know. I know this whole thing, us being here and being dragons…I know it’s got you stressed out. And I get that you can’t just wave your hand and make that go away. So I…well, I’m just saying that we’re here for you. I’m here for you. I know I’ve said that before, but…..”

Micky twisted around again so he could look Mike in the eye.

“I really want….need you to know that nothing has changed with us. Ok? You’re still Mike Nesmith and my best friend in the whole world…and this world too. And that won’t change, even if you’re a dragon.”

Mike looked down at the small crimson dragon looking up at him in concern in his eyes, the same almond shaped eyes that he knew so well, even if they were the wrong color now. He could see Micky’s face in the expression he wore, and in the line of his jaw.  He nodded.

“Thank you, Micky.” he murmured, bowing his head and letting his feathers lie flat again.

His stomach growled audibly. Mike stiffened in embarrassment.

“Sounds like you went to bed hungry,” Micky smiled. “Maybe that’s causing your bad dreams. My mom always said trying to sleep when you’re hungry can make it harder to get a good rest.”

A pang of homesickness hit Micky when he talked about his mom, but he did his best to not let it show too much. Mike needed cheering up so he needed to focus on that.

“Hey, uh, I think Felara sent over a few more of those lizard treats you said you liked,” he said. “Maybe you just need a midnight snack.”

Mike chuckled.

“Maybe I do.” The lizards… the lizards he could handle. They were smallish, only a bite or two for him, but he didn’t lose control when he snacked on them. Not the way he did with larger chunks of meat.

He went downstairs, hopping off and landing easily on the floor below. He started towards the fridge.

And paused.

And turned to look at the statue, sitting in Mr Schneider’s place against the wall, Mike’s hat sitting on its head.

“Hey, see if there’s any of that bug pasta dish left in the back,” Micky said, hanging over Mike’s shoulder. “I can’t remember if I ate it all or not.”

The drummer turned his head to see what Mike was looking at. He realized it was the statue where the Texan’s hat was currently sitting. He recalled that he wanted to ask Nisha about finding someone who could make a replica of the hat for Mike.

“Groovy statue,” Micky said. “Why did you pick it out for the pad? Does it remind you of something?”

“He likes the hat…” Mike murmured. “Uh… I’m not sure.“ He reached out to brush his fingers against its surface… and felt  _ something _ in his fingertips. Like a static shock, but not quite. He jumps back in surprise. That… that _ had  _ just been a dream, right?

Right?

“What? What do you mean, he likes the hat?” Micky asked, confused. “And what happened there? Did you get a shock or something? Did Davy heat up the statue? He does stuff like that to me, you know. Heats up stuff he knows I’m gonna grab.”

“It was another dream I had.” Mike said, rubbing his fingertips together. “At least…” he reached out to touch the statue again. It felt warm under his hand, almost alive in fact. There was power there, he realized.

“At least I think it was a dream…”

“Weird,” Micky said, shaking his head. “I don’t know, maybe you should talk to someone about it. Someone who has the same kind of magic as you.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Micky and he frowned.

“You have talked to someone about your magic, haven’t you?”

“Er…” Mike shrugged. “There’s been a lot going on, and it’s not giving me any trouble… not like with you’n Davy.”

“Well maybe it’s not giving you trouble, but it still wouldn’t be a bad idea to do,” Micky said, frowning. “Do you even know what kinds of things you can do yet? I mean, have you tried anything out?”

“Uh…”

Micky frowned. He knew to take a non-response like that as a “no”.

“Why not?” he asked. “Don’t’cha want to know more about your magic? By the way, what kind of magic is it anyway? Is it like one of ours? Can you move stuff with your mind or set stuff on fire or blow winds around? Or is it something else?”

“Well that’s just it Mick. I don’t know.” Mike said. “And, well, if I don’t know what it is, how can I figure out what I can do? Am I supposed to just wave my arms and see what happens?“

“Oh,” Micky said. He hadn’t thought of that, that Mike hadn’t used any magic yet. Although, that notion was confusing because he was pretty sure that Mike had to have done it at some point. But then again, he also couldn’t be sure of what was magic and what was just physical traits in regards to what Mike could do as a dragon.

“Well, um, I don’t know if it works like that,” he said. “I think it just sorta happens. That’s how it was for me. And Davy too, I think. Who knows with Peter, man.”

Micky slid off the Texan’s neck and moved to hover in front of him.

“Have you noticed anything… different that you can do?” he asked. “Something that the rest of us can’t?” 

Mike started to shake his head… but paused.

“I don’t think so…” he said hesitantly, casting the statue another glance. “Unless…”

“Yeah?” Micky said. “What is it?” 

The drummer poked his head into the fridge. Not seeing any of the pasta dish he was longing for he moved up toward the cupboards. As interested as he was in Mike’s magic, he was also really hungry and needed food before he got too distracted.

“Unless you call havin’ a vivid imagination magic,” Mike snorted, before going to look for the lizard snacks.

Micky found another bag of bug chips and grabbed it from the cupboard. He was grateful that Pogue had thought to send another one and wondered how he could pay him back. 

“Who knows,” Micky said as he peeled open the bag. “It might be. Or it might not be your imagination. I mean, who would have thought I could make things blow up? Mmmm, these nacho cheese bugs are even better than the barbecue ones.”

“Maybe…” Mike mused as he pulled out the lizards, biting the head off of one as he thought. “You know when you went to sleep in the wall that first time? It was like I could see the crack you were in when I pressed my head against the wall. How deep it went. How wide it was. Where it branched off. That sorta thing.” The lizard crunched in a most satisfying fashion.

“Huh,” Micky said between bites. He tossed a couple bug chips in the air and snapped them up before they could get very far down. He was secretly pleased at how good he was getting at that game.

“Well, maybe that’s your magic,” he continued. “To see into walls and stuff. Like a psychic vision or something.”

“Mmm…” Mike chewed on another lizard. It was an idea… but it didn’t feel right to him. He shook his head. He ate a few more lizards, before returning to the statue. He could not shake the feeling that it had something to do with his magic.

“Hey Mick… there’s an inscription here.” he said, running his fingers over the base. “Can you read it?”

Micky crunched another bug chip before sitting the bag down and wiping his hand on the edge of the counter. He moved closer to Mike and squinted at the statue.

“Hmm… a little,” he said. “I think… I’m pretty sure it says… Earthshaker?” 

“What does it say? Earthshaker?” Mike asked at the exact same time Micky provided the translation. A floor tile cracks under Mike’s feet.

“It wasn’t just a dream…” he murmurs in shock.

“Yeah, Earthshaker,” Micky nodded. “Wait, this was part of your dream? This statue?”

Micky looped around and grabbed his bag of bug chips again. Maybe there was something to this. But what did it mean? Was that statue enchanted or something?

Mike nodded.

“I dreamed that… someone… spoke to me. It called himself the Earthshaker. He said that he was one of the ‘gods’ here. The representation of the Earth element.”

“Really? That’s groovy,” Micky said, tossing up another chip. He snapped it up before continuing. 

“Do you know if he had anything to do with us being here? Hey, do you think there are more like him? Or….are we sure this isn’t another dragon messing with you?”

“He said he was the first, the eldest, of the Eleven.” Mike responded. He really didn’t know how to feel about this. There was only one God where he came from… and yet…

“Hmmm,” Micky said, scrunching his eyes. “I think we should talk to someone about this. Maybe they’d know something about it. Hey, we should go see Zelioth. He seems to know a lot about this world. Maybe he can tell us what it means.”

Micky grabbed a couple more chips out of the bag and stuffed them into his mouth before rolling the top of it back up.

“Honestly, babe, I don’t know what else we can do,” he said as he chewed. “I have no idea about this stuff.”

Mike nodded, and went back to his lizard snacks. He was at a loss too as to what to do about this. He reached for another lizard, and realized the basket was empty. Er… had he really eaten the entire basket of lizards? He was still kind of hungry… but the lizards had taken the worst of the edge off. Still… that rabbit in the fridge was looking awfully appetizing… even though it hadn’t been skinned or gutted.

No. That could be breakfast.

Except… he really wanted that rabbit. Against his better judgement he opened the fridge and stared at it. Just a bite wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Right?

Micky put the bug chips up and headed back to the fridge. He was hoping that Mike would be willing to share one of the lizard snacks and was dismayed to find the basket empty.

“Aw man,” he whined. “You could have saved me at least one.”

Abruptly he noticed the way that Mike was staring at the fridge. He looked in to see that there was a rabbit that had been sent for Mike. Micky looked back at the Texan and blinked in surprise over the ravenous yet glazed look in his eyes.

“Um, Mike?”

Startled, Mike grabbed the rabbit in his teeth and growled as he gulped it down.

He blinked in confusion. Had he just…? He had, hadn’t he. At least he didn’t blank out that time. He had heard Micky’s voice, and realized that he didn’t want to share the rabbit. Even with Micky.

Micky backed up a little when Mike growled at him. That growl had sounded rather vicious and for a split second, it had made him nervous. But he mostly recovered after that although he still kept his distance.

“Ok, ok, so you don’t want to share,” he said with a short laugh. “I’m sure I can just finish off those bug chips. I’ll be fine.”

Once Mike had finished swallowing the last of his rabbit, Micky noticed that the feral look was gone. In its place was one of confusion.

“Er, I’m going to grab some more of those chips,” he said, looping over toward the cupboard. “How was your rabbit?”

“Uh… it.. it was good.” Mike let out a forced chuckle. “I-I guess I was hungrier than I thought. I was planning on saving it for breakfast…”

“Ha ha, yeah, well….maybe it’s just as well,” Micky said, making sure to smile. “I mean, you don’t want to have more bad dreams just because you’re hungry.”

Micky grabbed the bag of bug chips back up and stuffed a couple more into his mouth. Now that he thought about it, it seemed like every time Mike got hungry he became…different. Like he was in a trance or something. Micky wondered if that was a side effect of his magic or the kind of dragon he became. 

He filed that away to ask Zelioth privately. He didn’t want to draw Mike’s attention too much.

Mike smiled slightly, before yawning.

“Yeah. Speakin’ of which, I’m gonna go back to bed now. G’night, Mick.” He nodded to Micky before hopping back upstairs and settling down in his furs.

“Yeah, good night, babe,” Micky said, waving at him as he watched Mike jump to his room. He thought about joining Mike, but decided that he was too wired for that. So instead he stayed where he was and munched on chips until the bag was empty.

Once that was done, he tossed the bag toward the waste bin, missed it by only an inch and then went back to his studies of dragon language. He wasn’t as eager to work on it as he was before, but figured it would occupy his time for at least a couple of hours. 

He glanced at the dragon statue one last time before getting back to work.

 

Mike slipped easily into sleep again. He dreamed of home. That he was sitting with the guys, just hanging out at the pad, relaxed and happy.

And most importantly, human.


	3. Chapter 3

Micky studied the writing in front of him, squinting several times in an effort to concentrate his thinking. He was starting to get some vague understanding of how the writing worked. It would just be a matter of practicing it. He mouthed out the words and made sure to not actually divert any of his magic energy toward what he was thinking.

Meanwhile, Davy suddenly lifted his head and looked around. He had had a tiresome day earlier. Ember was still pushing him on learning to control his fire magic. He wasn’t entirely sure about what exactly he needed to learn by this point, but he didn’t argue that point very often.

Secretly, he enjoyed the lessons. It had him use portions of his mind that he didn’t get to use often enough back home. Plus, it helped distract him from thoughts about his grandfather.

Davy stood up and walked over to a window. He wondered if a night flight might be in order.

Peter raised his head and blinked sleepily at Davy.

“Hey Davy. What are you doing up?” He had been having an odd, but not unpleasant, dream where they were playing frisbee on the beach back home. As dragons.

Mike meanwhile slept like a rock.

“Oh nothing,” Davy shrugged. “Just thinking. About how different things are now.” Davy moved away from the window and went over to sit in front of Peter.

“When I first go here, all I could think about was how I wanted to find a way back,” he said. “I wanted to learn everything I could so I could use it to get back to where we came from. But...”

Davy looked down and then back at the window, stunned at what he was about to say next.

“Now, I’m starting to wonder just how badly I want to go back.”

Peter nodded.

“It’s pretty groovy isn’t it? Everyone’s so nice, there’s plenty of food, and we’ve still got each other and our instruments.” He stretched, catlike, before resettling on the floor.  “And I like being a dragon. It’s fun being able to fly.”

Davy nodded. Next to Micky, Davy was sure that he spent the most time in the air. He had heard early on that his breed was known as Skydancers and now he was starting to understand why. Being in the air was freeing. He loved twisting around in the air currents, swooping and circling around while gazing at the lush green forests below. He had thought flying would become ordinary, but it hadn’t yet.

He also found himself agreeing with other things that Peter said. The dragons here were friendly. It hadn’t taken Davy long to start to socialize with them, an activity he also really enjoyed. And it was nice to not have to struggle for basics like shelter and food.

Was living on Earth that much better just because they had come from there?

“Besides, it always works out in the end, so why worry? It’s a new experience. We should enjoy it.” He rolled over and stretched again, exposing his creamy ivory belly fluff as he smiled at Davy.

Davy shrugged. Peter did have a point there. They’d probably get home eventually so they might as well make the most of it while they can. If anything, it seemed like they got into less trouble overall while they were here than back home. Maybe because it seemed like there weren’t any crooks and bullies hanging around the clan.

He glanced down to see Peter still showing him his belly. Davy smiled and reached down to rub it, only slightly surprised to not find the gesture very odd at all.

Meanwhile, Micky was pretty sure he had made a breakthrough in his studies. He was tempted to try out his new spell right then and there, but decided he’d rather let Mike sleep for now.

Instead, he smirked, making plans about how to get Davy back for hitting him with that mini fireball yesterday. In his mind, Davy was getting a little too good at aiming those things.

Peter purred contentedly. That felt good. His tail thwapped the floor as he blinked up at Davy with half-lidded eyes. He bats at Davy gently with one massive paw.

“See? This isn’t so bad, is it?”

“No I suppose not,” Davy chuckled. “But I think I’ll go for a quick trip out. You’ll let Mike know where I went, right?”

“Sure. The winds are good for it tonight. Have fun!” Peter waved as Davy left. He curled up to go back to sleep… except it felt kinda weird without anyone else there. Maybe he could keep Micky company while the drummer studied.

Davy patted Peter a few more times and then headed out of the pad. Once he was there he spread his wings out and then took off. He coasted through the air and decided he wanted to check out some of the forest he hadn’t seen from above.

Micky blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes. He was tired of studying and wanted something else to do. Even though he preferred sticking close to the pad at night, his improved night vision made him interested in at least checking out the area near the pad.

“Maybe I can find my own lizards,” he mumbled to himself as he went out.

Peter rose to his feet and padded into the main room. Darn. Seems like Micky decided to go out tonight too. His scent trail led out the door and didn’t return. It was fairly fresh though, so he probably only left a few minutes ago. Peter thought for a moment, then leapt up to the second floor landing. Mike wouldn’t mind, right?

Mike didn’t wake up when Peter curled up next to him… but he did spread one wing to cover the bassist.

Peter dreamt he was chasing after a giant talking carrot. It looked _delicious_.

Outside, Micky grinned as he took in the scenery around him.

Even though he liked doing things during the day back home, he had never been one to go to bed early. He enjoyed the nighttime and the way it made the world seem different.

But here in Sornieth, that feeling was increased even more. The clan lands seem to become even more magical. It helped that it felt as if he’d been given night vision goggles for sight which made it even easier to appreciate the sights around him.

A flicker of movement caught his eyes and Micky guessed that he might have found a snack.


	4. Chapter 4

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=6299972)

Chloreth was tending to one of the night blooming plants that had been looking rather sickly of late. Her power flowed into the plant, filling it with the blessing of the Gladekeeper to grow strong and healthy. Once that was done she turned her attention to the plant’s environment. Had something changed recently? Her tail twitched as she examined the growing conditions with her magic. Her tail was the only hint that there was an actual dragon there, and not just more plants.

Micky slithered through the brush. He still could see the movement and figured this was a particularly energetic lizard. He licked his lips in anticipation. Lizards like that often made the best snacks. 

He crept closer and closer to the movement, trying to wait until he was sure that he’d be right on top of his prey. Once he was confident of his advantage, he zoomed in and pounced.

“Ah-ha!” he shouted. “I gotcha!”

Chloreth felt something bite down on her tail and shrieked in rage. The rather sizeable Fae yanked her tail away and spun around, seizing her staff and bringing it around to smash it against whatever beast it was that was assaulting her tail.

“Owowowow, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Micky yelped. He backed away from whatever was hitting him to see a tiny dragon hovering across from him.

“Hi, uh…ha, ha, you’re not going to believe this,” Micky said, trying to smile. “But I thought I was chasing a lizard and, um…say, that’s a nifty staff. Really hard. Oh uh, and it’s a nice night out, isn’t it?”

Micky had a bad feeling that he was making the other dragon even angrier and started to back away even more.

“I’ll just…leave and…uh…did I say I was sorry?” he said, holding out placating hands.

Chloreth stared at the crimson Spiral, lowering her staff.

“Hmmph. Don’t let it happen again.” she said, scowling. She tilted her head. She had seen him somewhere before… “You’re with the Wildclaw aren’t you.” That’s right. She had seen him wrapped around the Wildclaw several times since they’d first arrived. Her tail still smarted and she rubbed at it.

“Oh no, no, no, never again, I promise,” Micky said, flapping his hands in front of him. “And uh, you mean, Mike, right? Yeah, I’m with him. I’m Micky. Me and Mike and Davy and Pete, we’re friends. We’re living in that pad just a little ways from here.”

Micky noticed how the dragon still seemed to be hurt from what he had done and immediately felt bad.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about that,” he repeated. “Um, what’s your name? And what were you doing in the bushes? Were you looking for something?”

“I am Chloreth.” she said. “ As for what I was doing in the bushes, not that it’s any of your business, I was tending one of the flowers here.”

“Oh, so you’re like a gardener,” Micky nodded. “Hey, that’s groovy. It must be a lot of work with all the plants in this forest.”

Micky cocked his head to the side. Even though he hadn’t met her before, something about Chloreth seemed familiar to him. Suddenly, the answer popped into his brain.

“Hey, that’s right, Chloreth,” he said. “Ember mentioned you. She said that you had talked to her about that plant thing I blew….”

Micky abruptly stopped. He had understood that what he did was necessary, but that still didn’t mean he was proud of what he had done.

“Wait. YOU destroyed that-” (no words but her crest flicks emphatically) “-Vine Fiend? But you’re Arcane, right? That’s… impressive.” Chloreth examined the Spiral. He didn’t look exceptionally powerful… but then again, she had heard rumors that the four newcomers were different. She’d mostly dismissed the rumors though. How different could they be?

Micky looked down and fidgeted. “Yeah, I’m Arcane, and uh…well, I was with Mike and it just came out of nowhere. And I guess I was scared. And I didn’t want it to hurt Mike, so I…honestly, I don’t know what I did. All I remember is that I kept wanting it to go away and it was like something inside me just focused on that. And then all of the sudden ‘boom’.”

He finally looked up. “I promise, I’m not gonna go around and blow plants up. Nisha’s showing me how to use my magic and Ember said it was ok to try it out on the rocks near her place for practice because I’m still getting used to being a dragon and having magic and stuff.”

“So it’s true. Huh.” she was silent for a moment as she looked over him. Her crests waved thoughtfully. “Fair enough. As long as you aren’t experimenting on random plants either. Because that’s how we get things like the Vine Fiend.”

“Wait, you mean that creature was the result of some dragon experimenting with plants?” Micky asked. “I thought it was just something that lived here. That’s kinda cool….in a mad scientist kind of way.”

Micky suddenly realized how what he had just said sounded and shook his head. “Not that I want to do that kind of thing. I mean, running into one of them was enough. I don’t want any other weird monsters attacking me.”

Chloreth snorted.

“If that thing wanted to live here then it would have listened when I asked it to move somewhere out of the way, _not_ try to eat me! Uppity little…”

Micky blinked in surprise, but made sure to keep his mouth shut. Although, it was oddly comforting that he was not the only one around here who had tried to eat Chloreth.

“Yeah, Ember said it was a nasty thing and tried to tell me it was ok that I blew it up,” he said. “Sounds like she was right about that. Still….”

Micky wondered if he would ever feel completely ok with what he had done there. It was one thing to eat lizards and mice. After all, he’d eaten chicken and pork back home, so it’d be hypocritical to act like it was a bad thing to hunt for food.

Still, the fact that he had destroyed a living thing just by wishing it was gone was a disconcerting thought no matter how much it might have been warranted.

Chloreth watched the Spiral.

“Is there anything I can help you with? Or can I get back to work?”

“Oh um, sure, I’ll just be…going somewhere…” he said. He knew that sounded lame, but for some reason, he felt a little nervous talking to Chloreth. Like she could vaporize him if she got too mad at him.

Micky flew off and hovered around another opening in the trees. He didn’t have much of an appetite for lizard hunting now and wondered what he should do instead.

Chloreth watched him go. Hmm. To blow up a Vine Fiend with Arcane magic… that took a lot of juice. And while yes, fear did often boost magical output, there was still the fact that the Vine Fiend was resistant to Arcane energy. Yet she had felt it die, just as surely as if Ember had torched it. He must have some serious latent ability/potential.

Hmmm… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chloreth is about half Micky's length, nose to tail.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davy sets something on fire.

Davy swooped down out of the clouds and landed on a giant branch. He was pretty far from the pad by now. The area didn’t look familiar to him at all. However, the flowers glistening in the moonlight were enough to make him want to pause and enjoy their beauty. 

“This would be a nice place to take a girl,” he mumbled. “If could find one….”

Davy frowned. It had been a while since he had tried to date again. He was still struggling with discerning male from female dragons. And then there were dragons that seemed to be in another gender category altogether. The result was that his dating opportunities had been nil of late.

A fact that was starting to drive him crazy. 

Something stirred in the branches nearby. A pair of beady emerald eyes stared hungrily at the Skydancer that had landed on its branch. Silently, it crept out of its hiding place, sneaking up on the unsuspecting Monkee.

Davy continued to mope. He knew there wasn’t much good in doing it if he wanted to find a girl, but he also wasn’t used to being without a date for so long. Thus, it was easy for pessimism and irritability to creep into his usually more proactive demeanor. 

Suddenly, he lifted his head and frowned. He wasn’t sure why, but he had a funny feeling that he wasn’t alone. The frown quickly became a scowl.

“All right, whoever you are, come out,” he said. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

Unfortunately for Davy, the creature didn’t understand draconic.

It leapt at the dragon, intending to land in between his wings and knock him down so it could snap at his neck. Under normal circumstances it might not have bothered due to the danger posed by the dragons flailing wings, but it had been several days since it’d last eaten, and hunger was driving it forward.

Davy snarled in response and swung his wings as hard as he could against the creature. A satisfying blow was achieved which gave him enough time to get away and turn to face the thing. He narrowed his eyes at the monster and could feel his blood starting to boil.

“Look….I really really am not interested in this sort of thing right now,” he said, growling. “So just back off or prepare to be charbroiled.”

The creature shook its head to clear it, then, seeing that its prey hadn’t yet fled, lunged again. It was hungry, and if this thing didn’t have the sense to flee it would surely hold still long enough for this to work, right?

“Right, that does it,” Davy said, his eyes burning with anger. 

He flew up, easily avoiding the thing as it lunged. He remained in the air as he stared the thing down, ready to unleash the biggest fireball he could muster.

Suddenly, Ember’s teachings came back to him. No, no he had to be careful. There were trees and plants everywhere. He had to make sure to not set everything on fire. He would have to be very careful. 

Davy took a huge breath and concentrated. There was a trick he had been working on for a while. A way that would be effective, but not dangerous. 

He just hoped he could pull it off.

The creature stared up at the dragon hovering above it, confused. WHy wasn’t he fleeing? Why was he staring at it?

Davy continued to center his focus into a fine point. He wasn’t sure if it was pinpointed enough, but he figured that he was ready to teach the thing a lesson.

The antennae on his head twitched as he unleashed a small fireball, no bigger than a golf ball, toward the creature. It hit the thing in the side and stuck there. Then Davy fixed his eyes on the glowing cinder and his eyes started to sparkle. 

The cinder grew hotter and hotter, turning from red to white as it grew so hot, it was melting into the monster’s flesh. Soon, flame-shaped patterns spread out from the fireball and enveloped the creature. It screeched in protest, but it was too late to stop what was about to happen.

Davy blinked and then the thing was consumed by fire. A fire that burned hot and fast and was gone in a couple of moments, leaving only a pile of ash on the ground.

There is silence. Not a creature moves, having fled from the smell of fire.

A slight breeze stirred the ash.

Davy frowned. He was pragmatic enough to accept that what happened wasn’t his fault, not in a culpable sense. It was self-defense. The short time he had spent here was enough to teach him that there were going to be times when he’d have to face these life-or-death situations. 

Still, as seriously as he took this reality, he couldn’t help but be a little frustrated at how the battle went.

“Right, there’s no way I can use that spell on Micky,” he grumbled. “He’d be burned to a crisp and Mike would kill me. Looks like it’s back to the drawing board on that one.”

Davy flew around some more before heading off to Ember’s place and the grounds around it. Even though he hated the grime that often accompanied his lessons, he found that working on his magic here was always a great way to clear his head.

“Now,” he mumbled to himself. “How can I control the amount of magic on my attacks?”


	6. Chapter 6

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3135657)

Micky continued to wander around, looking to see if there were other dragons hanging around. He wasn’t surprised to see more than one Spiral zooming about. He was sure that his night vision was something that all dragons of his type had. 

 He grinned suddenly when he spotted a familiar face.

“Hey Nisha, what’s happening?”

“Hey Micky!” Nisha called out cheerfully as she spotted the other Spiral. “You made any progress on those scrolls I lent you?”

“I think so,” Micky said, carefully scratching his head. “I’d like to try some of the spells out, but Mike gets kinda cranky if I do that around the pad.”

“And the last thing we need is a cranky Wildclaw.” she giggled. “You wanna come back to my place to try them out?”

“Sure yeah,” Micky grinned. “Hey, uh, can we start out with the one where we move stuff from place to place? I really need to learn how to do that. I’ve got a friend who…um, wants to see me do it.”

Micky looped about happily as he flew next to Nisha.

Nisha led him to a den high in the treetops. There were actually a couple dens around this tree, although several didn’t seem to be occupied. The tree itself was strange, having been mutated by the Arcane energies of the dragons that had called this tree home over the Clan’s lifetime. Branches reached out and vanished halfway along their length, only to reappear a few meters onward as if nothing happened.

“Now. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I really, really want to learn that trick where you make a pile of stuff appear from somewhere,” Micky responded. “You know, like piles of apples or fish or…whatever. That seems like it’d be really useful.”

_ ‘And it’s be a great way to get back at Davy for flinging fireballs at me, _ ’ he thought. Not that he was going to share that with Nisha. He wasn’t sure what she would think of using magic to pull pranks.

“Hmm… that’s a bit tricky to pull off cold, unless you know EXACTLY where you’re conjuring something from. The easiest way to accomplish this is with spell circles that you’ve linked together.” She drew a diagram on the floor in chalk. “This is a basic spell circle. So I charge it with just a bit of power so I can find it magically, then put whatever I want to summon into it…” She placed a book into the center. “The chalk isn’t actually necessary but it’s good practice when you’re still learning to draw these. Then you go elsewhere, draw another circle in the exact same fashion… pour some power into it… link it to the other circle, that should be easy if you’ve drawn them right…” there is a flash of light “And there you go!” The book had vanished and reappeared in the other circle. “Just make sure you keep everything inside the circle or it won’t work right.”

“I think I get it, yeah,” Micky nodded. “So you’re saying that it would be more effective if I knew about more places.”

It suddenly occurred to him that he really hadn’t done much exploring since he had arrived here. Granted, there were reasons for that: his new habit of falling asleep spontaneously and the monsters that were apparently roaming around. Still, if he was going to live here for a while, it would be a good idea to know more about the place.

And for Micky, experience was often one of the best teachers. 

“Oh definitely. Also, you know the feeling when you levitate something? You get that feel for the object, its shape and mass and properties? That’s helpful too for conjurations. You cast your magic out and seek the object with the right properties… but that’s more advanced stuff and can be tricky to get right. Also don’t go trying to summon living things either. At least not without my say-so. That can go very wrong very fast. Best case scenario the creature dies. Worst case scenario…” she chuckles nervously. “Yeah you really. really don’t want to try that. Something about living cells and arcane magic… Plants are usually ok though… and if it’s already dead it’s fine.”

“Oh right yeah, probably not a good idea to transport people around,” Micky laughed. “They might get kind of weird about it.”

The rest of what she described didn’t seem impossible to overcome. He was already becoming familiar with his immediate surroundings near the pad. And that alone gave him some great opportunities to test out his magic.

However, something she said came back to him and worried him a little.

“Uh, Nisha, that bit you said about not summoning living things…is that how that weird plant monster got created?”

Nisha tilted her head.

“No… I think that was someone spilling some alchemy reagents. But uh… yea. that’s the sorta thing that can happen. It’s not fun.”

“No, no I bet it wouldn’t be,” Micky shuddered. He certainly hoped that he would never accidentally create something like that. For now, he was going to stick with moving stuff around.

“Is there anything else?” Nisha asked. “Some spells you wanted to try out?”

Micky thought hard about that. He wasn’t entirely sure what the limits of his magic were, but there were things that he hoped he could learn. Because they’d be useful in a place like this.

“Um…is there anyway I could find one of my friends right away if I needed to?” he asked. “Like a locator or being able to see them anywhere or something?”

“Hmm… There might be a spell of that sort somewhere… I haven’t really needed to use a spell like that. Are you thinking a tracking spell, or something to show you where in the clan they are, or…?

“Something like that,” Micky said. “Basically, we’ve noticed it’s better if we stick together and well, I was thinking it’d be a good idea if there was a way for us to know where we all are. Just in case one of us needed something.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Nisha promised.

Micky nodded and started to loop around Nisha’s home. He loved the way she decorated her house with mobiles and maps of constellations and chunks of meteorites. He wished he could do more of that with the pad.

“Is that all?” Nisha asked.

“Say Nisha, where did you get those cool meteorites?” Micky asked. “I’d love to have a few at my pad. And some other space stuff too. You know where I can get any of it?”

“Drake you know how hard it is to find meteors in the Labyrinth?” she snorted, “I collected these the last time I went back to the Isles. They are not easy to find even there. As for the rest of it… well I made most of them.”

“A labyrinth?” Micky echoed. “You guys got a real labyrinth here? With like a minotaur and stuff?”

“What are you talking about? I mean the Viridian Labyrinth. Nature flight territory. Where we are right now.”

“What, here?” Micky said, flabbergasted. “You mean this whole forest is a maze? No wonder why I kept getting lost.”

Now that Nisha mentioned that, it did seem likely to Micky that there would be all kinds of monsters roaming around. He definitely needed to come up with magic that could protect him better.

“Pretty much, particularly here… in the…. shrieking….. wilds………” Nisha sank down towards the floor with a yawn before slithering into a hole, her whole body disappearing into the gap.

Micky watched with amusement as Nisha sank down in the floor. He wasn’t surprised that she was so tired if she had been doing stuff before he ran into her.

Now that he thought about it, he could stand to get some more sleep himself. He immediately took off toward the pad, hoping that he’d get there in time.


	7. Chapter 7

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3360584)

Davy watched the dust settle from another one of his fireball experiments. He still had not found a way to dial back the power of the spell he had used on the monster earlier and wondered if it would even be feasible.

Ember cracked open an eye. She felt fire.

The fiery Mirror rose to her feet and headed towards the forge. Hmmph. What was he doing here at this hour? She yawned, and watched the boy practice throwing fire. Hmm. After a couple of shots, she moved up next to him.

“You’re gonna burn yourself out throwing fire around like that.”

“That’s just it. I’m trying to tone that down,” Davy said, frowning. “Because….there was a monster in the woods. And I ended up using that sticky fireball spell on it. It worked, but…I didn’t realize how powerful it was.”

“You can call fire at will, so you know the feeling of your magic… but you’re pouring it out all at once. Fortunately you have a lot of power, but even so, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you continue. Hmmm…. Do this.” Ember held out one claw and summoned fire to fill her palm. Then the ball of flame shrank in size until it was a single flickering candleflame on one finger. She made a gesture, and the flame remained, still burning on her fingertip.

Davy watched carefully as Ember created the flame and then manipulated it. Then he held out one of his own claws and tried to repeat the process. But it seemed as if every time he tried to scale back the size of the flame, it just re-surged. 

“I don’t understand it,” Davy frowned. “Why can’t I adjust the flame?”

“Think of it like breathing. What you’re doing with your fire is blowing your breath out all at once, when you should be doing so slowly. Take a deep breath. Hold it… now let it out slowly. Slowly. Count to five as you do. Now do that again. Breathe in and count to three, hold for a moment, then breathe out to five.”

“All right, I’ll try,” Davy said.

He focused on the tips of his claws and summoned another flame. This time though, he focused as much on breathing the way Ember had instructed as the flame itself. Soon, the flame narrowed and shrank down. It didn’t become as small as what Ember had achieved, but it was definitely less intense than it was before.

“That’s it. Good. Just like that.” Ember said, pleased. “Keep practicing that. It should get easier.” She yawned. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to sleep.”

“All right,” Davy said nodding. “Thank you and sorry. For disturbing you.” 

He continued to stare at the flame flickering at the end of his claw. He suddenly thought about a dance teacher he had studied under when he was young. The teacher was strict and demanding, but he got results and Davy respected that. He probably worked harder during those lessons than at any of the paying jobs he’d ever had. 

Now, it looked like he’d have to go back to that sort of work ethic.


	8. Chapter 8

Micky watched with amusement as Nisha sank down in the floor. He wasn’t surprised that she was so tired if she had been doing stuff before he ran into her.

Now that he thought about it, he could stand to get some more sleep himself. He immediately took off toward the pad, hoping that he’d get there in time.

* * *

 

Mike raised his head and blinked. Maybe he would go for a walk. Yeah, a walk seemed like a good idea. He headed out.

He actually wasn’t really sure why he was going for a walk at this hour, nor why he was heading in this particular direction. If he’d been more awake he might have wondered, but his head was still a bit fuzzy from sleep. He just felt that he should be right here right now…

Something landed on him.

* * *

 

Micky yawned over and over again as he flew. He went as fast as he could, but that was tiring him out even more. He thought about slowing down, but then he might not get there fast enough.

Soon though, his eyes grew heavy and he knew what was coming.

_ ‘Oh no, I’m not gonna make it in time,’ _ he thought.  _ ‘I’m already falling asleep…I…I’ _

Unable to stop the inevitable by that point, Micky’s eyes slid shut and he fell onto a large, fluffy object.

Mike blinked as Micky fell from the sky squarely onto his shoulders. He wasn’t really surprised though. He’d just had that feeling that Micky was going to be there.

He hummed contentedly, gave Micky’s coils a pat, and wandered back to the pad.

Once he landed, Micky immediately wrapped himself around the fluffy, moving object he had fallen onto. Even though he wasn’t fully conscious or had his eyes open, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was Mike. 

Thus, he nuzzled his face into the pluff along Mike’s shoulders and neck and smiled as he fell into a deeper sleep.

Mike headed back to his room, a slight smile on his face. He had Micky. This was good. Micky was safe. He would protect Micky. Nothing would happen to him.

He settled down in his nest of furs, content, and drifted off back to sleep, still with a smile on his face.

* * *

 

After a little more practice, Davy flew back to the pad. When he walked in, he was surprised to find everyone still sleeping. 

Then again, he was pretty tired himself after all the work he had put into practicing with his magic. So he walked over to where Peter was and laid down next to him, enjoying the soft warmth of his fur.

* * *

 

Mike woke again about an hour later, feeling well rested. Micky was still on his shoulders, fast asleep, and the other two were still asleep as well. The early light of sunrise was just beginning to make itself known as Mike went downstairs.

He tch’d in slight irritation as he saw that Davy had tracked soot in all over the floor. Seems he’d gone to the forge sometime last night. The area around the forge was covered in soot and charcoal dust, and since Davy tended to fly from place to place, the soot on his feet didn’t get cleaned off by the moss the way Mike’s would.

But before he did that, he needed coffee.

* * *

Micky remained asleep where he was. He was having a wonderful dream about flying among the stars and did not want to wake up any time soon.

Davy, however, was awakened by the sound of someone walking around the pad. He wasn’t sleeping that soundly anyway, so he wasn’t annoyed over being woken up. Still, he didn’t feel like moving yet, so he opened his eyes a crack to see what was going on. 

* * *

Mike rummaged around the cabinets. He was pretty sure someone had… aha! He pulled out a sack of coffee beans that someone had left as a housewarming gift.

Now, how do you make coffee without a coffeepot? Hmm…

Further investigation yielded a coffee mill and a pot and something like cheesecloth. He ground the coffee, filled the pot with water, poured the grounds onto the cloth… and realized that there was nowhere to heat the water.

* * *

Davy yawned and stretched. He wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep any time soon so he figured he might as well get up. He blinked his eyes fully open a few times and looked over at Mike.

The Texan was holding a pot with a cloth covered in brown powder over it. It figured that Mike would still want coffee as a dragon. 

Davy slowly got up and walked over to where the Texan was standing. “Allow me,” he said. He held out a claw and stared at it for a second before a flame jumped into life. He quickly got it under control to where he could keep it strong, but steady. 

“Oh, thanks Davy. What are you doing up this early?” Mike asked as he held the pot over Davy’s clawful of flame to boil.

“That’s all right,” Davy said. “And I guess I just have a lot on my mind I suppose. I was out flying last night and I ran into one of those nasty beasties that you and Micky must have come across. I was able to take care of it, but…it got me thinking about my magic.”

“Oh yea? How’s that working out for you?” Mike asked, adding the coffee to the pot. He swirled it around, letting the coffee infuse the water. He really hoped this would work… although, he realized as he continued to swirl the pot gently, did he really need it? He was alert and awake enough to do this…

Satisfied that the coffee had steeped enough, he poured the coffee into another pot, straining it through the cheesecloth to filter out the grounds. A little bit of the liquid splashed onto him, but he didn’t notice.

“All right, I guess,” Davy shrugged. “Ember has been good about teaching me and all, but….I feel like I can’t control it. Not the way I want to. It seems like I’ll never get the hang of it.”

Davy blew out the flame flickering near his claws and took a couple steps back. He looked down and frowned at his sooty appearance. He needed another dust bath badly. 

“And there are….other things I keep thinking about,” he continued.

“Like what?” Mike prompted as he sipped his coffee. It was strong and bitter. Usually he added a little sugar to it, though not nearly as much as Micky did, but he found he actually enjoyed the strong taste now. It was also at the perfect temperature.

Davy sighed. A part of him didn’t want to say because he knew how Mike would react. Then again, the things on his mind were frustrating him so much, he figured Mike’s reaction wouldn’t bother him as much as it normally would.

“All right, I’ll tell you what it is,” Davy replied. “Do you know I haven’t been on a date for days? Days. I can’t seem to find any birds to go out with. Sure, the dragons around here are a friendly lot, but I can’t seem to make the progress I used to. And it’s driving me mad.”

Mike nodded. Davy was always bringing home girls… before. It was something they teased him about, yes, but gently. It was just who he was. But after that incident with Mnissath… It’d really shaken him up.

“It’s just not the same, hanging around here,” Davy continued. “Sure, a lot of it is pretty groovy. Having plenty to eat. Flying. Magic and all that. But no man is an island, Mike. At least most of us aren’t.”

Davy let out a long sigh. He was pretty sure Mike couldn’t do anything about his dating situation. Still, he felt a little better after having a chance to vent.

“I’m going to get cleaned up,” he said, walking away.

Mike watched him leave, still sipping his coffee. Maybe Felara knew someone who’d be up for a date with Davy. Davy practically lived and breathed romance. Pretty much the exact opposite of Mike, although from what he’d seen, Davy not being able to go out on dates had the same effect on him as Mike being unable to be alone.

His stomach growled. He shook his head in denial. No. He’d just had that rabbit a few hours ago. He couldn’t be hungry again already. It felt wrong to be eating so much. Sure, there was plenty of food here, but he’d always been a light eater, what with growing up poor. He was used to it. Plus there was that feeling that he was taking away from others who needed it more… even if the others didn’t actually need it. He was the only one that needed the meat. Peter and Davy couldn’t even eat it.

To distract himself he wandered over to the statue again.

Micky yawned and opened his eyes again. He wasn’t quite ready to get up, but he was feeling a little restless. He blinked a couple times and continued to stay wrapped around Mike’s neck and shoulders.

He looked over at the statue Mike was looking at. It did look neat with Mike’s hat on him. Micky wondered if Mike had any more dreams about the statue, and what they could mean, if anything. 

Suddenly, he heard Mike’s stomach growl and frowned. They had plenty of food. Why wasn’t Mike eating?

“Hey babe, aren’t you gonna go grab a bite?”

Mike grunted noncommittally. He didn’t want to eat. Didn’t want to be reminded of what he was. Didn’t want to blank out again. Didn’t want to sink his teeth into warm flesh… tearing off delicious chunks… teeth slicing through hide and muscle and fat and sinew… iron rich blood splashing on his tongue… hot and metallic… feeling the life ebb from his prey as he ripped out its throat… He drooled slightly.

_ And why not? _ a voice seemed to whisper.  _ You’re a dragon. It’s only natural. _

Micky frowned. “You’re just gonna get even hungrier if you don’t eat now. And, and maybe if you ate when you’re hungry you wouldn’t have those weird moments you were telling me about.”

He yawned again and slithered down so he could face Mike. “You sure you don’t want to go hunting for lizards or something? I wouldn’t mind a snack either, ya know.”

Hunting… Mike felt a thrill of excitement at that possibility. He could hunt. He could do something for the clan. Pay them back.

Except…

His nightmare from last night rose to the forefront of his mind. Chasing and being chased. The fear and the hunger. Looking at his human self, and seeing it as… as  _ food _ . Eagerly anticipating the crunch of bone when he clamps his jaws around his neck, the inevitable spurt of hot blood… He laid a hand on the statue to steady himself.

And it worked. Not just physical stability, but also mental stability. He was able to push aside those thoughts. He took a deep shuddering breath, forcing himself to relax. Lizards. Focus on the lizards. He could do lizards.

Micky slid back and watched Mike, an eyebrow raising. When he mentioned hunting, it was as if something else stirred in Mike. It wasn’t anything overt. It was more of a vibe he got from the Texan. A vibe of something not Mike. Or maybe not the Mike he was familiar with. 

“Anyway…I was thinking we should explore a little more of the area around here,” he continued, trying to shake that vibe. “And going out for a snack would be something we can do while checking stuff out around here. So uh, does that sound ok to you?”

Mike nodded, and drained the rest of his coffee.

“Yeah. Sure.” It would be good to learn the territory. And there was no way he was gonna let Micky go roaming on his own. Even if he did have magic to protect himself, there was still the matter of his falling asleep with little warning.

Although… there was a flicker of memory from last night. Of catching him when he fell asleep midair. It seemed like a dream.

There is a thump, and Peter hops down from the upper landing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike is not quite himself when he hunts.

“Groovy,” Micky said, grinning. He hoped that the combination of a nice walk and finding some food would put Mike in a better mood. Of course, he left out the part where he wanted to see more of the clan so he could get some ideas of transporting stuff around as a way to get back at Davy.

“Hey Pete, you wanna come with us?” Micky asked. “You think Davy will wanna come?”

Peter shook his head.

“I’d rather not if you’re gonna be hunting.“ He was ok with them hunting, but he didn’t want to be there if they were. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to be near Mike when he did, considering how he got when eating already dead food. He might act the dummy, but he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Mike when he was hunting.

Not now.

Mike nodded at that.

“Alright Pete. Take care. Uh, you’ll tell Davy where we went, right?” Peter nodded. “Ok, groovy.”

“Ok Pete, you take care,” Micky called out as he and Mike left the pad. He still hadn’t moved from Mike’s shoulders and was quite content to continue riding around on the Texan for a while.

Once they were outside, he squinted at the bright sunlight filtering through the branches from the orbs hung around the clan. It wouldn’t be as easy for him to hunt during the daytime, but he figured Mike could help with that. Really, it was more important that he start getting a good lay of the land around the pad.

Mike headed off into what could have been considered their ‘backyard’. He figured it would probably be better to hunt somewhere a fair distance from the Clan center, as any prey here had probably already been caught or had been scared off. His ground-eating strides carried him easily through the jungle. Soon the light from the Clan's sun-lamps faded and he was running through the twilit forest, a world of emerald green.  


Soon he came to a halt, his sharp eyes darting around, seeking motion. There was food here, he knew. He just had to find it.

Micky stayed wrapped around Mike’s neck while the Texan ran. There were times when the scenery around him sped by him in a blur, but he didn’t comment on it. His vision was good enough now that he was able to keep track of where they were going most of the time. 

Besides, the last time he went into the deep forest alone, he had run into that plant monster. So he was reluctant to move away from Mike and decided he was better off acting as a second set of eyes.

Mike had completely forgotten that Micky was wrapped around his neck. It was unimportant. He didn’t impede Mike’s movements. Mike cast around, moving easily on his feet as he sought some trace of prey.

He scented the air. There was something tasty nearby. He could smell it. Over there.

He crept closer, moving in silence as he did. A few leaves rustled. He could feel it moving around. Closer… closer…

He exploded into motion. The creature, a pheasant of some sort, attempted to take to the air and flee.

It didn’t get far.

Mike’s teeth closed on one of its wings and he dragged it to the ground, pinning it under one of his feet as he ripped off its head with a savage twist crushing its skull in the process.

_ Yes. _

_ Feed. _

The hot blood excited him. To feel the life ebb from the body, it thrilled him. To kill his own food, it pleased him. This was good.

This was  _ right _ .

For a quick second, Micky was going to ask Mike if he wanted to share, but immediately decided that that probably wasn’t a good idea. The Texan seemed to be really hungry right now, so he figured he could wait until they found some more prey before asking to share it with him.

In fact, for a moment, Micky almost didn’t recognize Mike. It didn't seem possible, given that even when they first arrived he had known who Mike was, yet when Mike’s jaws snapped onto the creature it was as if Mike had momentarily blinked out of existence. The moment was over as soon as Mike had finished his meal, something that only took a few seconds, but that still left Micky with questions. 

Including whether he should mention this to Mike or not.


	10. Chapter 10

Mike finished the pheasant, leaving nothing but a pile of feathers and some of the larger bones. And blood. He growled, pleased with what he had done. He could provide. Delicately, he picked up a few of the longer feathers that remained, tucking them into his own feathers as a trophy. His first kill.

His  _ first kill. _ ..

His first… kill…..

What had he  _ done _ ?

Mike gasped, reeling at the reek of blood surrounding him.

“No…” he whispered. It was just like when he ate at the pad.

Micky gulped. He was a little weirded out when Mike stuck one of the feathers from the creature in his own, but hadn’t thought too far into it. Maybe Mike thought they were pretty and this was a way of honoring the pheasant. It reminded him of Indian customs he had learned about when he visited reservations as a teenager.

But when Mike starting whispering “no” to himself, Micky knew that something was wrong.

“Mike? Are you ok, babe?”

Mike jumped at the voice. Micky’s voice. His best friend, Micky Dolenz. And he, he was Mike Nesmith. He had to remember that. He could not forget that.

“It… it’s like all those other times.” he whispered hoarsely, still in shock. “Except… this time  _ I _ killed it.” Even though he felt a lot better having eaten. He wiped the blood off his muzzle with some leaves before sinking to the ground and covering his head with his wings.

Micky wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t deny that Mike had really gotten into the hunting and killing aspect of what had just happened. After all, he had sensed something that was Mike and yet Not while it was going on. Still, it seemed wrong for Mike to have to feel ashamed of acting out of instinct.

“Mike, you killed it because you were hungry,” he said. “It’s no different than when people go hunting for deer back home or butcher livestock on a farm. It’s not like you tortured it or anything.”

“No… but they don’t go rippin’ its throat out with their teeth now do they? Feel it die in their jaws? Delight in the taste of the blood as they rip off chunks and gulp it down?”

Micky fell silent. Mike certainly had a point and he couldn’t think of anything to refute it. At least, not with anything that didn’t seem feeble to him.

“I,I’m sorry, Mike,” he mumbled. “I guess…I guess that’s part of being the kind of dragon you are.”

Mike sighed.

“Yea. There’s some lizards over there under that log.” He pointed with one wing. “If you’re still hungry after watching me eat.” He didn't think to wonder how he knew that.  


Micky wasn’t sure if he was still hungry although that had more to do with worrying about Mike than being disgusted over how Mike had eaten. Still, he knew that a snack would give him more energy to keep exploring without having to take frequent naps on Mike’s neck.

He slithered off the Texan and hovered around the log for a moment before darting down and grabbing a pair of lizards by the head. He gulped them down in one smooth motion.

Mike watched him. Micky didn’t eat nearly as messily as he did. Just a quick strike and it was over. No messily devouring a carcass.

Speaking of which… he probably should bury what was left of the pheasant. Rising, he scraped a hole in the soft ground and nudged the remains into it, before covering it up. He still had a few pheasant feathers tucked in with his own, and he went to pull them out, but decided against it. Maybe Peter would like them. He didn’t need to know where they came from.

Micky looked out of the corner of his eye to see Mike burying what was left of the pheasant. It made sense. To avoid rot and other creatures sniffing around. The fact that he had half expected it was enough to convince Micky that their dragon bodies were also giving them dragon instincts. 

He frowned. Back home, he half-believed people who said that all creatures, even humans, were never really free of instinct. It’d always rise up in the end. Micky couldn’t see how things like science could be explained with such a mindset, but right now he was wondering if maybe they had a point.

Mike paused after burying the pheasant carcass to consider his feet. In addition to the massive sickle claw he had, his toes were a lot more flexible. He had more control over them too, more than he’d had as a human. Was it weird to be focused on his feet like this? Probably, but Mike welcomed the distraction. Anything to keep him from thinking about his kill. It was his body, anyway, and by all accounts he’d be stuck with it for a while.

“Hey, uh, you wanna check out more of the forest?” Micky said, trying to change the subject. “Or do you wanna check out the areas where some of the other dragons live? I heard that they’ve got some kind of marketplace here. We could see what’s going on there.”

Micky moved back over to Mike and draped himself around the Texan’s shoulders. He hoped that Mike might find the contact comforting.

Mike nodded.

“I… I’d rather stay out here for a bit.” he said. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to anyone here yet, and the forest was comforting. Peaceful.

“Oh, ok,” Micky nodded. “It is pretty around here, isn’t it? It looks really cool from above.” He cleared his throat and moved down so he could look at Mike from the side. 

“Hey Mike, can you…can you fly at all?” he asked. “I haven’t see you do it and uh, I was just wondering.”

“I think so…” Mike said, spreading his broad grey wings. “I just don’t really see the need to.” Still, it was an interesting question. The closest he’d come to flight was when he’d leapt up to catch Micky that one time, and that only lasted for a few moments. He really preferred to run.

Still, maybe he should try flying. The other three seemed to enjoy it. He took a few steps and launched himself into the air. There was enough clearance here for him to remain airborne for a few wingbeats before returning to the ground.

He shook his head. That… no. He didn’t like it. He’d felt cut off somehow. It was a lot like the feeling he got when in the upper walkways of the clan.

“Ah, ok, I can dig that,” Micky nodded. “Maybe it’s not as much fun for you ‘cause you’re bigger.”

Micky snuggled against Mike as the Texan strolled along. It was pretty here. The forest was so full of life and color. It was even better than the forests he remembered back on Earth.

“I wonder why we got these bodies,” he mused. “I mean, yeah, we’re all dragons, but we’re all different from each other even though we’re all humans. Why aren’t all of us spirals or tundras or such? Why are we all different from each other?”

Mike had wondered the same thing. Why had he been turned into this… this sort of predator? He didn’t mind being bigger than the others, really, but the way he ate, the raw meat… that still bothered him.

“I don’t know… but they seem to suit y’all. Your bodies. I mean, can y’ really see Peter lookin’ like this?” He gestured at himself. “Huntin’ th’ way I was?”

“Nah,” Micky grinned, his sharp little teeth showing. “It totally makes sense for Peter to be all fluffy and happy looking. And Davy…yeah, Davy would have those pretty wings and dandy look.”

Micky chuckled again and moved over to look at Mike from the side.

“Does this mean you think that it makes sense that I look like a huge snake?”

“Well you certainly are wiggly. And I can’t really see you as a Snapper, not with your energy.” Mike chuckled.

“True,” Micky laughed. “I don’t like sitting still for too long. And it is pretty groovy to fly.”

Micky uncoiled some more so that he could face Mike. He studied the Texan for a minute before nodding. “I think this fits you too. You look…commanding. Protective. Like no one should mess with ya. That’s how you looked back home when we went out and stuff.”

Truthfully, Micky did think that Mike looked intimidating at times. Although, he slowly realized that it was more front than an actual threatening presence. It seemed even easier for the Texan to pull off though in his dragon form. 

Mike nodded slowly. He could accept that. He knew that people who didn’t know him found him intimidating at times, an impression that Mike usually had no intention of correcting. It kept people from bothering him.

“Makes sense, I guess. Although I could still do without the… you know.” He’s silent for a few moments. “I wonder if that also applies t’ the magic y’all got.”

“I dunno,” Micky said. “You haven’t really said what your magic is. Do you know? Have you talked to anyone about it?”

Micky had a feeling he already knew the answer to this, but pressed on anyway. With the two of them already being out and about, now might be a good time to persuade Mike to see someone about his magic.

“Mick, you just asked me this last night. No, I haven’t. I was enjoying the first decent rest… nevermind.” He picked up a rock and turned it over in his hands. It didn’t look like much… but as Mike polished it in his hands the dirt crumbled off to reveal some interesting striations in contrasting colors.

“Yeah, I know I asked, but I really think you should talk to someone about it,” Micky said. “I mean, Ember got all upset when Davy started using magic without training and I…well, I found out about magic in an abrupt way too. I’m just thinking that it would be a good idea with us checking things out anyway.”

Micky looked over to see Mike studying the stone in his hand. The Texan hadn’t seemed that interested in rocks before they became dragons. But now it seemed like Mike was often intrigued by various stones he found laying around.

Mike continued to polish the stone in his hands, knocking off the rough edges of what he assumed was just dirt clumps, smoothing and rounding it off. He wasn’t really thinking about what he was doing, it was just something to do with his hands.

Micky continued to watch what Mike was doing while thinking about how he wished he could find stuff that interested him. The stuff he had seen in Nisha’s home had fascinated him and he wished that he could stumble upon meteorite fragments. He had always been interested in space when he was back on Earth, but that somehow intensified as a dragon.

“You think you’ll add that to your collection?” Micky asked.

“Collection? Oh. I guess.” Mike held it up, admiring the patterns in the grain. It was pretty, the different bands of color running through it giving it an interesting look.

“Yeah, it is a groovy stone,” Micky nodded. “Oh and uh, if you ever find a piece of a meteorite, could you let me know? I’m trying to find one.”

Micky uncoiled from Mike’s neck and hovered nearby. He thought about how he’d love to grab another bag of cool ranch bug chips to snack on back at the pad, but wasn’t sure how he would pay for it or even how money worked in this world.

“Sure.” Mike said. A piece of a meteorite… Actually…

He frowned, and turned. There was something nearby… He started digging at a patch of ground a dozen lengths* away. He poked through the loosened soil and grunted in triumph. In his claws was a fragment of something, not much larger than one of his teeth.

_ *length=body length, nose to tail. Mike’s about 5 meters long as a dragon _

Micky’s eyes widened, a huge smile appearing on his face. He zoomed over to see what Mike had found.

“Is that what I think it is?” he beamed. He took the fragment from Mike’s claws and studied it up close. “It is! Thanks, babe. This is just what I was looking for.”

Micky clutched the fragment close to him. He remembered seeing a little stone platform with a glass dome in the storage area. He figured that would be perfect to display the fragment.

Then another thought suddenly popped into his head.

“Hey Mike…how did you know that was here?” he asked.  


“Uh… I’m not really sure. It just felt… different, somehow.” Mike said, frowning slightly. 

Micky cocked his head to the side. That was interesting. And useful as it meant that Mike would probably be able to find more pieces of meteorites in the future.

“Is it because of your magic, you think?” he asked, still admiring the fragment.

“I don’t know what else it could be.” Mike admitted. “It’s not like I could’ve seen it there. I guess I do have magic…” Not that he could really use it. He didn’t feel any other meteorite fragments nearby, and it didn’t really give him any clues as to what else he could do.. “Although I’m not sure what good bein’ able t’ find bits of meteorite does…”

“Well I think it’s groovy,” Micky said. He moved back onto Mike’s shoulders and gave him a firm squeeze. “Thanks again for finding that for me, babe.” He nudged his head against Mike’s feathers, still grinning.

“Hey….maybe your magic is about rocks,” he mused. “You know: rocks, ground, dirt….that kind of stuff.”

Mike blinked. That…. that actually made a lot of sense. Why he kept picking up rocks, for example.

“Earth.” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” Micky said. “Earth. That’s gotta be it. That’s why you dig these rocks and things. Hey, let’s see if we can find Zelioth and ask him about it. And about that statue too. I wanna know who that’s supposed to be.”

“The Earthshaker. That’s what you said the inscription said, right? I-” He broke off, staring into space. There was a crashing noise. Mike pounced.

At that same moment a beast charged across their path. Mike slammed into it, bowling it over and snapping its neck with his teeth. It was a fairly big beast too. Seconds later, a Mirror charges out of the brush and comes to a halt when they see Mike standing over the Rambra.


	11. Chapter 11

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3534531) [](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=12502732)

“That was our prey! You stole our kill!” she snarls as three other Mirrors emerge from the brush, one of whom was Davy’s magic teacher.

Mike growled, his crest raised as he crouched over the beast.

“Guys, guys, it’s ok,” Micky babbled, rising up on Mike’s neck. “It was just a misunderstanding. Mike, he, it was attacking us so it was self defense. That’s all.”

Micky smiled and laughed nervously. Unfortunately, a side effect of those nerves was that rocks and sticks started to fly about in all directions around them and the group of Mirror dragons.

Mike continued to growl threateningly. He did not steal the kill. That would mean he’d been following them and that he was unable to hunt his own food.

“ _Did not._ ” he snarled harshly in response to the Mirror's accusation. 

Ember was a bit puzzled. She’d spoken to him a few times, and he’d been polite, courteous, maybe a bit suspicious, but not hostile like this. Before she could say anything, Elazerepth, the only male in the pack, opened his mouth.

“Shut up pipsqueak. This is none of your business so fuck off.” He leered at the Spiral riding the Wildclaw's shoulders. “Or maybe I’ll eat you instead.” He grinned, baring yellowed teeth.

“Oh for fucks sake…” someone muttered. 

_WHAM!_

Mike slammed into the Mirror, sending him flying backwards. He tried to roll back to his feet, but Mike pounced again. 

“MINE!“ he roared. Laz tried to regain his footing, but Mike struck again, flipping him over and pinning him. His talons hovered over the Mirror’s underbelly, ready to eviscerate him if he so much as twitched. The other Mirrors barely reacted.

“Yea, uh, Laz? You had this coming.” the first one sighed.

By this point, Micky was scowling at the one referred to as Laz and was planning on throwing a well aimed rock to hit him between the eyes when Mike reacted first. While Micky was not surprised at the anger in the Texan’s tone, he was shocked by the ferocity of his attack. Deciding that it was probably better that the situation not be allowed to escalate, Micky moved back down to gently squeeze Mike’s neck and shoulders.

“Mike, babe, calm down, ok,” Micky said, “It’s no big deal, ok? It’s ok…” He stroked Mike's neck with his wing, smoothing down the raised feathers.

Mike felt his rage fade at Micky's words and touch. He stepped back, breathing heavily as he attempted to regain his composure.

The Mirror pack watched with some amusement as Mike backed off at Micky’s encouragement. Laz scowled as he got back to his feet. 

“You’re listening to that-” he began,

“Laz will you shut the  _ fuck  _ up? You’re only gonna embarrass yourself.” the green and black mirror snapped. She sighed. “Sorry about that. He grew up in the Scarred Wasteland, and never learned what we would call  _ manners _ ." She flicked Laz with her tail. Laz flinched and snapped at the blow. "I'm Razirith by the way. That's Poisonwind," she flicked her tail to indicate a brown and green mirror with a sparkly hide, "and I think you know Ember already. You gonna eat that?” she continued, indicating the carcass Mike had been crouched over moments earlier. 

“I, uh, sorry about that… and, uh, no, I already had a pheasant.” Mike stammered in apology, embarrassed over how he'd let his temper get the better of him yet again.

“Those are tasty,” Razirith nodded. “What else?”

“What?” Mike blinked in confusion. She was asking what he’d eaten? “Uh… nothing. Just the pheasant.”

“For fucks sake drake, you need more than that! A dragon of your size? Come here and have some of this.” She ripped off a chunk of the beast and gulped it down. “After all you did kill it. So dig in.”

Micky frowned again, but remained silent in response to Laz’s taunting. Right now, it was more important that Mike was calmer and the situation seemed to have diffused. 

And the Mirror dragons probably had a point about Mike needing to eat more. Micky had suspected the same thing based off how Mike responded when he did get something to eat. 

“Hey, uh, Mike that does look kind of good,” Micky said. “How about we have some? I wouldn’t mind taking a little piece for myself.”

Micky glared at Laz again. The Mirror was starting to get on his nerves and looked like the sort who could give them trouble again. The sort who would probably go after him the moment he left Mike’s side.

In fact, he was so annoyed, he didn’t notice it when a rune appeared on the ground under one of Elazerepth’s feet.

Reluctantly, Mike lowered his head to tear off a chunk of meat. It helped that the mirrors ate the same way he did, and he dug in, feeling less self-conscious about it than he would if he was eating in front of the guys. He  _ was _ still hungry, he realized. He’d just tuned it out. He was used to being hungry.

Perhaps the biggest relief was the fact that he wasn’t blanking out. He was still in control of himself. He wasn’t really enthused about how much he needed to eat, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. 

"Here." Razirith held out a dripping lump of meat. "Traditionally the one who kills it gets the heart."

Mike stared at it for a moment.

"Uh... Micky can have it." he said.

Razirith blinked, a bit surprised. To offer the heart to another who hadn't been involved in the hunt meant that the other was very special indeed.

"If you insist." she said, tossing the organ into the air for the Spiral.

Micky looped around and snapped the meat into his jaws. It did taste good and he enjoyed being able to eat as much as he wanted for a change rather than just having to make do with what little they had.

He was also relieved to notice that Mike seemed calmer while eating this time. Less ravenous and more in control. Micky figured that his suspicions about Mike needing to eat more were being confirmed. Still, his annoyance and defensiveness at Elazerepth continued to stew inside him.

Meanwhile, the rune at Elazerepth’s foot continued to glow slightly. Strands of magical energy were weaving themselves around the foot while not truly touching it in a physical way.

Mike swallowed a last mouthful of flesh and stepped back. He was still uncomfortable with the amount he had to eat, but he did feel better without that low-level hunger that he hadn’t even noticed he felt. The Mirror pack quickly stripped the flesh from the carcass, and soon there was nothing left but bones.

Micky settled against Mike’s neck, still scowling. Even though he was happy that Mike seemed to be full for a change and that the Mirrors were backing off, he was still keeping his gaze on Laz, waiting for another aggressive gesture from the dragon.

At that point, the rune had finished its work and was glowing even brighter. Micky blinked in surprise when he saw it and then gulped when he saw that it had a vivid pink glow.

“Um…er, Laz, was it? Uh…there’s something, um…by your foot….”

“The… the FUCK did you do?! You little shit!” Elazerepth tried to leap, but the rune flashed and his foot was frozen in place in a chunk of some sort of crystal. The other mirrors burst out laughing.

“Laz, that’s what you get for threatening a mage.”

“Micky… what did you do?” Mike asked resignedly.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Micky whined. “It just sort of happened.” Micky almost said it probably happened because of how Elazerepth was acting, but figured that wouldn’t be a good idea. “Sort of like when that tree….”

Micky immediately stopped talking. First the vine monster and now this. He had tried to avoid thinking too much about it before, but it was becoming clear to Micky that he did not always have full control over his magic. That it would sometimes act on his feelings of fear, anger or defensiveness. 

It was an idea that was deeply disturbing to him. And something he knew he had to confront sooner rather than later.

“Um, I think I can get rid of it,” he said.

“Don’t bother.” Elazerepth snarled. “I don’t need help from the likes of you.” He limped off into the brush, swearing under his breath.

“It’ll wear off in an hour or so.“ Ember reassured Micky. “I’ve seen that spell before. And really, he did deserve it. I’m not sure why we let him stay…”

“Variety.” another mirror quipped.

“True. We can’t all be nice people,” she cackled. “Good hunting to you.”

“Uh what about him?” Mike asked.

“Eh don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine.” The mirror pack trotted off.

“Uh, bye,” Micky said, waving. “Have fun.” He wasn’t sure of what else to say. He certainly hoped that Ember was right about the spell wearing off before too long.  Micky filed that away in his mind as something else to ask Nisha about.

Still, he had a bad feeling that that wouldn’t be the end of things between him and Elazerepth. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but Micky was certain it was accurate.

“Maybe we should head back to see Zelioth,” he said. “Before something else finds us here.”

Mike nodded. That was probably a good idea. He started walking back toward the Clan, deep in thought.

The mirrors hadn’t said anything about how he’d attacked Elazerepth when he’d threatened Micky. Nor had they commented on how he’d eaten, and in fact had eaten the same way. And apparently he needed to eat more than he was. Was that why he kept spacing out? Because he wasn’t eating enough? He hadn’t spaced out when he’d eaten with them, not the way he had with the pheasant.

He could hunt though. He didn’t have to rely on the Clan’s stores for his meals. And damn it had felt good to slay that beast, using his whole body to take it down. Like he had realized his full potential as a predator.

It worried him. 


	12. Chapter 12

Micky stayed wrapped around Mike’s neck, deep in thought. Even though he agreed with Ember that Elazerepth probably deserved what he got, he couldn’t help but continue to worry about the pattern he had noticed about his magic. He considered it somewhat ironic that Ember was so concerned about Davy losing control of his magic, but apparently didn’t seem to worry about the dragon who was blowing monsters up.

“Um Mike….if, if you knew something was dangerous and could hurt someone, you’d want to keep it away from the guys, right? I mean, you’d want to make sure that nothing bad happened to anyone.”

Mike blinked.

“What do you mean Mick? Of course I’d want to keep you safe. All of you.” He was quiet for a moment. He would have gladly ripped out Elazerepth’s throat for threatening Micky. And the way he spaced out when he was hungry…

“I… do you think I’m dangerous?” he asked quietly.

“No!” Micky said immediately. “I don’t think you are at all. You just…get protective. And a little boisterous while eating when you’re hungry. None of that is a big deal. And you never let it get out of hand.”

Micky turned his face to the side. He didn’t want to say what he was thinking outright. Instead of getting an honest answer, Mike would try to reassure him that everything was ok. Which it wasn’t really. Not when something could explode if he got too scared.

“I mean…if you knew someone that could be dangerous. Like say, a dragon around here. You’d want them to stay away, right? Even if they seemed ok most of the time?”

Mike shrugged, not sure where Micky was going with this. He said he didn’t think Mike was dangerous, but he didn’t know how Mike felt when Elazerepth threatened Micky. Maybe Micky didn’t think Mike was dangerous… but Mike  _ knew  _ that he was. The claws on his feet, his teeth… The way he’d been a hair’s-breadth from disemboweling Elazerepth…

He was  _ scared _ of himself.

Micky sighed. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this approach and he was reluctant to be more direct. A part of him knew that Mike probably needed him around right now to deal with the issues bothering the Texan. 

But Micky was also certain that no amount of comforting was worth Mike’s life. Or Davy’s or Peter’s for that matter. 

“Mike…I’ve been thinking. Maybe…maybe it’d be a good idea if I lived on my own for a while. Maybe closer to Nisha so I can work on learning about my magic more often.”

“Wait, what? You think  _ you’re _ dangerous?” True, Micky had blown up that plant thing, and done that thing to Elazerepth’s foot… but…

Mike had wanted to kill that Mirror. Rip him to pieces.

“N-no.” Micky had to stay. Mike needed him.

“Come on, Mike,” Micky sighed. “When you hunt, you do it ‘cause you’re hungry. When you get mean with someone, it’s ‘cause you’re protecting one of us. You do stuff because you mean to do it. But…I do stuff because I get scared or upset. I don’t even mean to do it and it still happens.”

Micky slid off Mike’s neck and hovered facing away from the Texan.

“Sure, you jumped on that Laz guy….but what if I had blown him up? Maybe I could have if he tried to go after me. If I got scared enough….something could happen. Something really bad.”

“Micky… I wasn’t bluffing when I leapt on him." Mike said quietly, looking down at the ground. "I meant it. I was going to carve him up if he made a move t’wards you.” He fidgeted. “You… you blew up that thing in self defense. Laz was bein’ a jerk so your magic jerked him around, I guess.”

Micky laughed in spite of the anxiety he felt. “Yeah…I guess he really did have it coming, didn’t he?” He chuckled again before turning around to face Mike while still keeping his head down.

“I, I just don’t wanna accidentally hurt you guys,” he said. “You know I get scared a lot and panic and stuff. I get overdramatic. I always have. What if…what if I….”

Micky shook his head, unable to even finish that thought.

Mike started to protest, to convince Micky to stay… except that Micky was right. And, Mike realized, the only arguments he had were selfish ones. He wanted Micky there. He remembered the rage he’d felt at Micky being wrapped around that Guardian.

Maybe it would be a good idea. Not just because of Micky’s magic, but it would give Mike a chance to sort out his feelings. Get his temper under control.

“I… if you really think that’s best…”

Micky gulped. He didn’t really think it was best. In fact, he hated the idea. But he hated the idea of possibly hurting one of the guys even more. That fear gave him the resolve he needed.

“Y-yeah, I think it is,” Micky said. “I,I’ll talk to Felara and see if there’s somewhere I can stay while I’m figuring this out. And, and it’s not like I’ll be gone forever or all the time. I’ll visit and stuff when I’ve got free time.”

Micky wasn’t really sure how that would work, but he had to believe it would be possible in order to go through with this.

Mike was silent, not trusting himself to speak. He didn’t want Micky to go. He didn’t want to be unable to keep an eye on him. He didn’t want to tell the others that Micky would be staying elsewhere.

It hurt. Why did it hurt? He’d been away from Micky before, like when Micky went up to see his family. But that was always for only a day or two. And that was before, on Earth. Here… they were still getting used to their bodies. Sure, a lot of it was instinctive, but Mike still had moments where he would just stare at his arms, unable to believe that they were actually his. It just all seemed unreal.

“Y-You’d better stop by.” he said finally.

“Of course I will,” Micky said trying harder to smile. “I mean, who’s gonna help Davy practice his fire spells if I’m not around. And, and Pete….well, I was gonna help you make some shag rugs from all that fur.”

Micky laughed, even though he didn’t think this was funny. It was still easier to try to keep up the joking rather than face the reality of being alone a lot in a place like this. 

“Uh, let’s go to Zelioth’s and then we can ask around about a place I can stay at on the way back,” he said. “If we don’t run into Pete and Davy along the way, I guess you can tell ‘em what’s going on.”

Micky turned away and started looping toward Zelioth’s. He would have preferred to ride on Mike’s shoulders all the way, but he knew he needed to get used to not having that option for a while.

Mike trudged after him, silent again. He didn’t want to imagine life at the pad without Micky there. He didn’t want to think about the feelings stirring in the back of his head at the thought of Micky being alone. He followed Micky up to Zelioth’s den, wings clamped tightly against his body as he walked. His claws gripped the bark tightly. He still wasn’t comfortable in the trees, even though most of the clan resided there.

Zelioth caught a scent and put down his quill and parchment before investigating. He recognized the scents as two of those newcomers, the Spiral and the Wildclaw… but there was sadness in their scents… and something predatory that caused his hackles to rise and his lips to curl back exposing his canines. He stopped as soon as he realized what he was doing.

“Can I help you?” he asked as the two drakes entered.

“Um, yeah,” Micky said, flinching a little at the face Zelioth made for a second. “I hope we aren’t bugging you or anything. We just….” He took a deep breath and hovered over closer to the Tundra. He felt horribly nervous for some reason, but decided to plow ahead.

“Well, we were wondering about a couple of things,” he continued. “Um, about Mike. Well, we were wondering about what his magic is and what he can do with it. Or maybe who he could talk to about it. Oh and who is the Earthshaker?”

“The Earthshaker is the god of Earth Flight, which is the Flight your friend belongs to. Hence his brown eyes.” Zelioth watched Mike surreptitiously. There was something off about the Wildclaw. “Earth dragons can manipulate stone and dirt at will.” he continued. “Drakorsa’s probably the person you want to talk to about that.”

Mike nodded absently, only half paying attention. He was still trying to come to terms with the sense of betrayal he felt at Micky wanting to spend some time away from them. Yes, it would only be until Micky got control over his magic, but knowing the reason didn’t make it hurt any less. Nor did it do anything to silence the little voice in the back of his head that kept insisting that he was the reason Micky was leaving, that it was something that he’d done to drive him off.

“Oh ok,” Micky nodded. “I guess that explains the dream Mike had. About him talking and all.” He turned back over to Mike. “At least you know who to talk to now. That’ll help, right?”

Micky tried to smile, but he could tell that it wasn’t having the desired effect. Mike looked upset. Probably upset at him. At that moment, he was extremely tempted to call off his plans of living apart from the guys for a while. But then he thought of that plant monster again and that was enough to give him the needed resolve.

“Uh, Mike….can I…um….I was kinda hoping I could ask Zelioth some stuff privately?”

Mike nodded silently, before turning and leaving. Zelioth watched him go.

“Did something happen between you two?” he asked.

“No….” Micky said. “Not really.” 

He sighed. He was sure that Mike felt bad about his decision. And he felt bad about making the Texan feel bad. But Micky also figured that he needed to look to the long term.

“Um…I’m having problems with my magic,” he continued. “I mean, Nisha has been a great teacher and all. But….I don’t know if I can control it. The other day…I destroyed a plant monster just because I was afraid. And then there was this dragon, Laz…he kept bullying me and I got annoyed and….I made this crystal thing appear on his foot. And I didn’t mean to do it. It just happened….”

Micky hung his head. He knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t help it. His feelings were tangled up so much, he didn’t know what to feel at that moment.

“I…I need to find a way to control this. Or get rid of it. But I don’t know what to do.”

“You blew up a plant monster?” Zelioth said in disbelief. “Without using any spells?” He shook his head. “Incredible. The amount of raw power needed to blow up a Nature aligned monster… I expect that left you out for at least a day.”

“Yeah, it kinda did,” Micky nodded meekly. “I must have slept on Mike until….yeah, I was really tired.”

Micky blushed a little, glad that it was harder to notice with the color of his skin now. He was pretty sure that a lot of people had noticed him riding around on Mike by now. Still, it was weird to explain that to other people.

“Isn’t there something I can do about it?” he asked, a desperate edge to his voice. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Especially my friends. Please. Every time I get scared or annoyed or…or anything bad, it’s like my magic just acts up and does stuff. I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s not uncommon for one’s magic to react to stress like that, particularly in smaller breeds like yourself. It’s believed to be a defense mechanism, particularly in young or untrained dragons.“ He swished his tail as he thought. “Thing is, what you’re describing sounds impossible for one of your skill level. Nature is resistant to Arcane magic. The result you described… that might happen with a Lightning enemy, but a Nature enemy? Even I would have difficulty replicating that.”

Micky shrugged. He had a feeling he should be flattered by what Zelioth was telling him, but his current anxiety made it impossible for him to feel good about his possible magic prowess.

“I didn’t even mean to do that,” he replied. “I just sort of…I dunno, wished it would go away. I wasn’t even really thinking about doing anything in particular to it. I just thought about it disappearing and it sort of happened.”

Micky looped around Zelioth’s home, too agitated to stay in one place.

“This kind of stuff used to happen at home sometimes too,” he added. “Me and the guys…we’d think of something funny or something and it would just happen.”

“I see. That actually makes sense, that you were thinking about it disappearing. That may have lent more focus to your magic to produce that particular result. It’s still an impressive feat, but it doesn’t appear to be as random as it might seem. As for what you say about things happening back home… I was under the impression that there was no magic where you’re from? Was I mistaken?”

“Well it’s not really magic,” Micky said, turning back to Zelioth. “It’s more like…I dunno. Like, we’d think of something funny. Being a character or something and then stuff would just appear. Like clothes, props and things like that. Or maybe I’d tell a joke and then I’d tap my drumsticks.”

Suddenly, Micky’s sticks appeared in his claw. He twirled one around and made a tapping motion before he even noticed that he had them in his hand.

“Uh….like that, I guess,” he added. “It just happens. It’s not like we were trying to make this stuff appear. I don’t know about it happening to other people on Earth. I guess it happened to us so much, we kinda got used to it.”

Zelioth stared.

“That… that shouldn’t be possible.” he said. “I didn’t smell any magic.” At least, not any magic he knew, and he knew what all eleven elements smelled like, as well as non-aligned magic. The drumsticks could not be there. But they were. He could smell them, the scent of well seasoned wood… and there were some other odors, mixed in. Wood polish. Worked metal. Rubber. Well-crafted leather. Oil. Sweat. Electricity, but without the characteristic crackle of Lightning magic. It smelled industrial.

And there was one more thing. He didn’t know how it could be, but there was a Tundra scent tag, a particular combination of pheromones that bands of ancestral Tundras would use to communicate. Translated into Draconic, it meant, roughly:  _ Here we come _ .

“You say you got used to it. How long has it been going on? Do you remember when it first started occurring?”

“Um….I guess not long after the four of us started living together,” Micky answered. “We didn’t totally socialize with each other at first. But once we started hanging around each other more….I guess that’s when it started. So…a couple years or so? I think that’s how long it’s been.”

Micky scrunched his eyes. Zelioth certainly seemed interested…or confused…by what he was telling him. Which surprised him because Micky figured that magic was so common around here, his story wouldn’t stand out that much.

“Fascinating. And it’s only with the four of you? It’s something all of you can do? Where do the objects come from? Are they conjured from somewhere?” Zelioth had to know. A new sort of magic? How many dragons got to see that?

“Honesty, I dunno really know much about it,” Micky shrugged. “I mean, yeah, we call can do it. Mike…he can sometimes appear in more than once place at the same time. But the rest of it…I dunno. It just…is. I guess we just don’t think about it much anymore.”

Micky shrugged again, but a part of him could understand Zelioth’s reaction. Ever since he had ended up on Sornieth, Micky had felt a curiosity churning inside him most of the time. Curiosity about Sornieth, the other dragons, about magic…about almost everything. So it somehow made sense that Zelioth would be the same way.

“Do…do you think this has anything to do with what’s going on here?”

“You’ve never tried to see if, for example, those drumsticks are the same ones as the ones you would be using to play? Or if they disappear from where you left them when they appear in your claws? And I’ve never heard of  _ any _ magic that could allow someone to be in two places at once unless one of them was an illusion.” He shook his head in disbelief. How could he be so ignorant of the magic he and his friends seemed to wield? It was absurd!

“I can’t give you an answer to that without more information on how it works.”

“Oh, ok,” Micky said, ducking his head. Somehow, he felt as if Zelioth was disappointed in him in some way. Truthfully, Micky could understand that too. Telling this to someone else did make what happened between the four of them sound bizarre. 

“I guess part of the reason why we never really thought much into it is because it often happened when something else was going on,” he said. “Like, gangsters trying to shoot us or spies trying to have us taken out. Then, we’re just worried about staying in one piece. Other times…well….it was just for a quick laugh and it’d be over. It wasn’t like we could predict when it would happen. Or really control it when it did.”

“Hmm. I see… Is your world industrialized?” Zelioth asked suddenly. That had been preying on his mind for a bit. He didn’t think it had anything to do with the magic, but it might help if he understood where he was coming from.


	13. Chapter 13

Mike hopped off the branch, landing easily on the ground below. He knew he should probably stay nearby… but he didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. He just wanted to be alone.

His feet carried him to a shadowy corner that was deeper than it appeared. A lot deeper. In fact it wasn’t a corner, it was a tunnel leading underground. He descended into the darkness, ducking his head slightly to avoid cracking his skull on the ceiling.

It quickly grew dark, the sunlight not reaching the depths he was in. Despite that, he wasn’t overly concerned. He felt safe here. It was also noticeably cooler, and his feathers fluffed up some as he moved deeper.

The tunnel opened up and grew lighter. Mike saw great roots reaching down from the ceiling to the floor, branching and spreading out. Tunnels were dug in the gaps between the roots. The floor was made of cobblestone. He suddenly realized he was underneath the tree that served as the storage building. He knew, somehow, that the roots were supporting the ceiling, distributing the force so that the surface wouldn’t collapse when someone like Blutigenacht landed. It was some truly impressive engineering.

Mike continued to roam through the tunnels. It was peaceful here. He felt secure, stabilized to a degree. He could feel the tons of soil above him, but it wasn’t threatening, rather it was comforting, much like a heavy blanket on a chilly day.

He sighed heavily, suddenly hit with another wave of homesickness. He pressed his head against the dirt wall as the tears quietly slipped from his eyes now that there was no one around to see him cry.

He hadn’t felt this alone in a long time.

His head sunk into the wall as the soft patter of raindrops on leaves reached his ears. Great. Just what he needed. More rain. He hated the rain. It seemed to be always raining here. Of course, this was a jungle/rainforest… but still.

Davy didn’t seem to care for it much either, but he was from England so that was understandable. And maybe his fire magic had something to do with that as well. Peter didn’t seem to mind as much.

Why did  _ he _ hate it though? He’d loved it growing up. Rain was a rare occurrence in Texas, and he’d loved hearing it pour down from the sky. Through the roof not so much, but that seemed a small price to pay. Even when he’d moved out to California and met up with the guys he’d still enjoyed it for the sense of peace it brought, even if it also brought with it a very muddy Micky and/or Peter.

It bothered him. More than the rain itself.

Mike thought he should probably go somewhere… but it was nice here, and the rain was… flowing over his claws? He hissed in irritation, trying to shake the water off of his feet. Gahh. Now what was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to go out in the rain, but the water flowing down the tunnel was not something he wanted to deal with right now.

He picked his way along the tunnel, trying to avoid the worst of the waterflow. He wasn’t too enthused about staying here to wait out the rain, in addition to the the water underfoot there was also a damp breeze blowing through the tunnel, causing him to poof up. Unfortunately there didn’t seem to be any way to avoid getting damp one way or another.

The furnace was looking really good right about now.

Mike stalked through the tunnels, angry and upset and miserable. There had to be somewhere that was dry down here, right? Or had he just happened to wander into the Clan’s storm sewers? He turned down a passage at random. It seemed drier, and Mike was hopeful that it would lead somewhere… only it dead-ended a few dozen paces later.

Mike stared at the wall, fury rising in his chest. No. He was not going to be thwarted. He backed up slightly, then, with a wordless snarl, he charged forward and slammed into the wall.

To his great surprise the hard packed dirt and stone crumbled when he hit, revealing another passage leading somewhere. It was lower than the tunnel Mike was in, but it led somewhere, and It beat being in the damp. His anger temporarily forgotten, Mike ducked his head and ventured into the new tunnel.

Mike continued through the low tunnel. It wound about a bit, but continued in approximately the same direction, and for quite a distance. It branched a few times, but Mike kept going forward. The tunnel rose, and Mike blinked at the sudden intrusion of light as he reached an exit.

The tunnel emerged in a fairly sheltered spot, not far from the pad. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the outside light. He could probably make it without getting too wet if he ran…

* * *

 

Micky looked outside as soon as he heard the first patter of raindrops hitting the leaves of the trees. He frowned as he thought about how much Davy was sure to hate this weather. These days, Micky was often indifferent to it…but he didn’t like how much it matched his mood.

Suddenly, he was hit with a wave of sadness that sank down into his core. He wasn’t sure where it came from. But he felt his eyes water up for some reason and had to take a couple of deep breaths before he could speak again.

“Um, yeah, we’ve got a lot of machines and stuff,” he answered. “Planes and cars and trains and boats to help us get around on the ground, in the sky and on the seas. And radios, TVs, and telephones so we can communicate. We even have rockets now so we can go into space.”

He knew that last point would be of interest to Zelioth. Which he could totally relate to these days.

Zelioth tilted his head, slightly puzzled. The scents were confusing. He smelled sadness, but it didn’t quite smell like the Spiral’s sadness, at least not entirely. It also smelled like the Wildclaw… and just a whisper of magic. He was about to ask when the last thing Micky said sunk in.

“Wait. Your people have been to SPACE?!?”

“Yeah, I know, right?” Micky said, suddenly excited. “We’ve actually sent people flying around Earth. And and our scientists are now saying that we might be able to get people to the moon. Or other planets. It’s really groovy.”

Micky babbled away about what he had heard about NASA and theories about space and space travel. In the back of his mind he still couldn’t shake the sadness he felt or the worries about his magic. But it was nice to have a pleasant distraction for a little while.

Zelioth listened in rapt attention to what Micky was saying.

“Incredible! Absolutely incredible! And your people have done all this without any sort of magic?”

“Nah, we use machines and chemistry to do stuff like that,” Micky nodded. “No one really has magic where I’m from. At least, I don’t think so.”

More accurately, Micky was skeptical of it. He had put more faith in science than most other things for a long time. Thinking about magic though reminded him about his current problems.

“Um, Zelioth….do you know of a place where I could stay on my own? Where I won’t bug anyone or hurt anything with my magic?”

Zelioth tilted his head.

“There’s probably some spare rooms in the Tree of Arcana. It’s probably the best place for you to stay if you’re worried about stray magic. The tree itself is a variety native to the Isles, and has the capacity to ground excess undirected mana.

Of course one has to be careful to use one of the stable chambers, as unstable chambers have an alarming tendency to react unpredictably to large surges of energy. Much to the dismay of anyone staying there.”

Micky nodded. “Are the stable, um, chambers marked or something? So I’ll know which ones are which. I don’t wanna make a mistake….”

Truthfully, somewhere in the back of his mind, he was pretty sure he was already making a mistake in choosing to leave the guys. Still, he was so anxious and confused, he wasn’t sure how he was going to sort any of this out unless he had time alone. Not to mention the fact that Mike had plenty of problems of his own right now.

Thoughts of Mike made Micky frown again. He wasn’t sure why he thought it, but he had a feeling that the sadness he felt earlier was more than what was in his own heart.

Zelioth nodded.

“Oh of course they’re marked, don’t worry. It should be abundantly clear which ones are stable.”

“Uh yeah, that’s good,” Micky nodded. “Oh and um, are there things I could do to learn to control my magic? So I won’t…you know…hurt other people or destroy stuff without meaning to?”

That was the main point of all this and it would be dumb to go to all this trouble without any idea of how to tackle the problem at hand.


	14. Chapter 14

Davy looked outside with a frown on his face. Now that he was clean and well groomed again, he had planned to stop by Ember’s and get some more training in after seeking out some other dragons to mingle with. But the weather was making him reluctant to even step outside the pad. 

“Just my luck,” he grumbled. “Guess I can see what I can make for lunch….”

* * *

 

“Nisha should know some techniques suitable for your temperament, being a spiral herself. The main thing is to practice so you can feel if you’re using magic, even if it’s unconscious.”

Micky nodded and played with the bit of meteorite in his claws. He was hoping for something more immediate, but he was pretty sure that that was going to have to do for a start. 

“Is there anything else?” Zelioth asked.

“No, I guess not,” Micky shrugged. “I guess I’ll get going. Oh and hey, if you ever want me to tell you about some more about space stuff from my world, let me know.”

“I certainly will.” Zelioth said with a smile as he waved goodbye.

It didn’t take long for Micky to be directed to the tree that Zelioth had mentioned. He headed in and started to look for a room to stay in.

* * *

 

Back at the pad, Davy’s mood was not improving as he struggled to make lunch.

“Hey Peter. What happened to all the spices we had in here?”

Peter looked up from methodically picking seeds out of his tail.

“Uh… I might’ve eaten them…” he said sheepishly, a breeze carrying the seeds and twigs outside.

“You ate the spices?” Davy said, goggling at him. “Why would you do that? Don’t you get enough food already? Now how am I supposed to make curry?” Peter shrugged.  


"Sorry."

Mike sprinted towards the pad in a mad dash for shelter. Suddenly his feet went out from under him as he hit a patch of particularly slippery mud and went down. Hard.

He hit the ground with a splat and a snarl. He was covered in mud and soaking wet, not to mention cold and miserable. He struggled to his feet and made it the last couple steps to the pad.

Peter looked up as a very muddy and pissed off Mike slammed the door behind him as he entered.

“Mike what happened?”

“I slipped.” Mike growled as he stormed into the bathroom. He just wanted to get cleaned up and dry. Peter watched nervously as Mike slammed the bathroom door shut as well, causing the wall to crack.

Davy grimaced. He could relate to the frustration that Mike was sure to be feeling due to get caught in that rain. Ever since he came here, he hated it as well. Not to mention his annoyance over getting dirty.

A few seconds later, another thought occurred to him.

“Hey Mike,” he yelled toward the bathroom. “Where’s Micky?”

“He’s not coming.” Mike snapped in a tone that hopefully conveyed exactly how much he didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to be alone.

He shivered and shook himself to try to dislodge the mud, but with only limited success. He was still pretty filthy, and now the walls were spattered with mud. He growled softly at that. He’d need to clean that up at some point. Nnnngh… How was he supposed to clean himself off? Was there ANYTHING here he could use? He turned, and his tail, which he was still getting used to, smacked against a wall which swung aside to reveal…

a sandbox.

Only instead of sand, it was filled with dirt. Fine, dry dirt. Wait. Hadn’t Davy mentioned something about dust baths? Hmm.

It probably couldn’t hurt… and Davy did somehow manage to get clean after hanging around the forge. It would probably make it easier to knock the mud off as well, draw the damp from his feathers. He stepped into the bath, which was easily large enough for him to stretch out in. The dirt was soft and loose, and  _ warm _ . He scooped it up with his wings, pouring it over his body to shake it off again, rolling around, the dirt drawing out the moisture and falling off in clumps. He wriggled down into the dirt, stretched out to his full length, almost completely buried. He lay there for a little while, eyes half closed, amazed at how cozy he felt.

Micky would never believe this, he thought with some amusement. And then he remembered. Micky wasn’t there. And his spirits fell again. Maybe he could just stay here instead.

Davy frowned at Mike’s tone. He recognized the Texan’s “I don’t want to be bothered” voice, but wasn’t really in the mood to indulge Mike. Not here and not when it involved another one of his friends.

He gave Mike some privacy for a few minutes so the Texan could get cleaner before he stepped into the bathroom. He frowned again at the mess on the floors and walls.

“I see you found the dust bath,” Davy nodded. “Seems a bit off, I know, but it does work.” Davy then leaned against the wall and fixed his gaze on Mike.

“Now, how about telling me what’s going on with Micky?”

Mike was silent for a few minutes.

“Micky’s going to be staying elsewhere for a while, until he’s sure he can control his magic.” he said finally, unconsciously sinking slightly deeper into the dirt. He didn’t look at Davy, though he could feel the Skydancer’s eyes on him.

Peter poked his head in, and was slightly surprised to see Mike mostly buried in dirt.

“And?” Davy asked. “You just let him go off like that alone? Mike, if he’s having problems with his magic…couldn’t he get in a lot of trouble? Remember how mad Ember was when she found out about my Fire magic? What if he does something to the wrong dragon around here? Have you seen how big some of them are? Or what if he does something to himself?”

Davy scowled even more and took a couple of steps even closer to Mike.

“Come on, what’s really going on here?”

“DAMMIT!!” Mike roared, erupting from the dirt. “Do you REALLY THINK I would do that?! I KNOW he could get into a lot of trouble with his magic!  _ THAT’S WHY HE’S STAYING WITH THE ARCANE DRAGONS. _ You think I don’t want him to stay? Of course I want him to stay!” He lowered his voice, though he was still clearly pissed. “But suppose something goes wrong and he accidentally hurts one of _ us _ because he can’t control his magic? Does something to us that can’t be fixed with a little burn salve? THAT’S what he’s scared of.” he growled.

Peter jumped as a crack split the stone near where he was sitting.

Davy took a couple steps back, but did not lose the defiant look on his face. “All right, I get that. I get being worried about his magic ‘cause…well, ‘cause we don’t even really know what it is. I mean, what is “Arcane” anyway?” Davy ground his jaw and took one step back toward Mike.

“But you’re not going to convince me that having Micky go off on his own somewhere is only idea. Or even the best one. Come on, Mike, even back home, you know it was never a good idea for one of us to try to sort stuff on his own. Sticking together was the way to go.”

Davy shook his head and backed out of the bathroom. “I get what you two are doing, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” And with that he headed off to his area of the pad to practice lighting candles.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea either.” Mike growled quietly as Davy left.  _ It should be me who leaves, _ he thought. His tail swished agitatedly through the dust as he rubbed his face in frustration. He shouldn’t have lost his temper like that.

He needed to get a hold of himself. The way he had snapped at Davy scared him. The all-consuming rage that had gripped him when Davy suggested he was making a mistake…

There is a sneeze. Mike jumps, then realizes that it’s just Peter sneezing at the dust he’d stirred up.

“Oh, sorry about that Pete.” Mike apologized, looking around at the mess he’d made of the bath. “I should probably clean this up… Is there a broom around here?” Peter shrugged.

“I can take care of it Mike.” he said. He frowned slightly, sticking his tongue out in concentration, and waved a paw. His eyes glowed with pale green light, and the dust swirled around into a dust devil that moved around the bathroom and collected the dirt to deposit it in the bath.

“Is Micky really not coming back?” he asked once he’d finished, looking at Mike pleadingly.

“He’s still going to stop by sometimes. It’s just until he’s sure he isn’t going to accidentally hurt one of us.” Mike sighed.


	15. Chapter 15

Meanwhile, Micky looped around the room, unsure of what to do.

He needed to talk to Nisha at some point, but hadn’t been able to find her on the way over here. He figured he could look for her again later, but that left him with too much time to stare at a mostly empty chamber.

Micky sighed and stared at the meteorite fragment in his claws. He thought about Mike again and hoped that the Texan was ok. Maybe he should go to visit…? No, no that would be too soon. He needed to make some progress before he did that.

Micky suddenly realized that he had left most of his writing and spell casting materials and scrolls back at the pad. He’d have to go visit.

Or…he _could_ try to teleport them to where he was now….

* * *

 

Mike busied himself with cleaning the mud off the walls, deep in thought.

Peter watched him for a little bit, then trotted outside and took to the air. He swooped through the air, casting about for Micky’s most recent scent trace. He found it after a few moments, though he spent a few minutes checking that it was the freshest trace before following it to a rather interesting tree.

Its shape was uncertain to Peter’s senses. Parts of it didn’t seem to be entirely there, and the rooms formed by the twisting branches seemed to have more space in them then they should. He flew along, through passages that seemed longer or shorter than they should be, and soon he reached the room that Micky had decided to occupy. He landed with a thump.

“Micky?”

Micky’s eyes flew open. He had been trying to concentrate on a spell to move some of his stuff to this tree. But the sound of someone landing and speaking broke him out of his trance.

“Pete? Hey, hi!” he grinned at him. “What are you doing here?”

More importantly, he wondered how Peter found him. He hadn’t told Mike where he was going and had only discussed it with Zelioth.

“Hey Micky. Are… are you really not going to be coming back to the pad?” Peter asked as he padded into the room. The Tundra sat down and tilted his head, looking at Micky with his big ol’ puppy-dog eyes. “I thought we were supposed to stay together.”

“Aw Pete, it’s not like that,” Micky sighed. “And it’s not like I’m never coming back. It’s just….” Micky frowned. He didn’t like Peter being let down like that. And even as a dragon, the bassist managed to give him the puppy-dog eyes that had often worked on him when they were humans.

Micky hovered near Peter and reached over to scratch behind the Tundra’s ears.

“I just don’t wanna accidentally hurt any of you guys,” he continued. “Which could happen if I don’t learn to control my magic. So think of it like…like I’m away at summer camp, trying to learn some new things.”

“But… magic is easy.” Peter said, confused. He waved a paw and a breeze swirled around the room. “And I don’t think you would ever hurt us, even on accident.” His tail swished. Did he want to tell him about Mike’s outburst? He knew that

“Come on Micky,” Peter whined petulantly, “I don’t want you to go. Davy doesn’t think this is a good idea. Mike… I don’t think Mike wants you to go either. Besides, you guys are always telling me not to wander off.”

Micky felt his heart crumble a little. Truthfully, he wanted to zoom back home right now. He looked forward to Davy trying to fry him with another fireball. For the clouds of Peter’s fur along the edges of the walls. To being able to sleep curled around Mike’s neck. All of it was so tempting to him. The fact that Peter sounded so dejected didn’t help matters.

“I wish magic was easy for me, Pete,” he sighed. “Davy, I don’t know how he does it. But me….aw, heck, Peter, I don’t even really understand my magic. It’s not like your guys’. Stuff you can see around you and feel. Mine’s….I dunno, it doesn’t even feel like it’s from here, ya know. Like it’s from….another world. Or space or something.”

“But… didn’t you tell me that everything comes from space? That all the stuff we’re made of was made in stars? So maybe that’s what your magic is. It’s just closer to space than everyone else’s.” Peter wasn’t entirely sure where to go with this. He didn’t think Micky’s magic was as alien as Micky seemed to think, but articulating his thoughts clearly had never been one of Peter’s strengths.

Micky smiled. It was nice that Peter did try to pay attention to his ideas about space, life and stars. Most people didn’t seem that interested. Still, he wished he could explain things in a way that Peter would fully understand.

“Peter…you know, I blew up a plant, right? And just a little while ago, I made this crystal thing appear on another dragon’s foot just because I was annoyed at him. Sure, he was a jerk, but it happened. And I had no control over it.” Micky reached down and patted Peter’s head again.

“You guys know I get scared easily. That stuff spooks me out and I get all high strung. If this stuff keeps happening, eventually, it’s gonna affect you guys. And I…I can’t handle that.”

“Does that mean you don’t want us to come visit you?” Peter pleaded.

“No, no, you can visit,” Micky said, emphatically shaking his head. “Zelioth said something about this place absorbing magic or something so it should be fine. So yeah, come by anytime you want. And hey, I’ll come visit you guys too, ya know. And..and it won’t be like it’s forever. I plan on coming back.”

The more Micky babbled on, the worse he felt about leaving. But the stuff he tried to say was an attempt to make himself feel better about the decision. It worked….somewhat. 

* * *

 

Back at the pad, Davy munched on the remainder of his snack.

He still was unsure of Micky living out on his own. It seemed like a good way to get into even more trouble. Then again, He couldn’t discount Mike’s concern about Micky’s magic.

 _‘Still…there’s got to be a better way than this,’_ he thought. _‘But what?’_

Mike stared at the floor, tracing the pattern of the grain in the stone. He wanted to go for a walk, but it was still raining. So instead he sat there, wings wrapped around himself, and brooded.

Soon, however, he sensed someone watching him. His eyes scanned the room. There. At the window. A spiral with tropical colors and huge deep blue eyes was staring at him. Mike growled and rose to his feet.

 

After almost an hour spent trying to control his fire magic with candles, Davy got bored and wandered around the pad. He tried rearranging some of the decorations, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from his boredom. Eventually, he decided to check up on Mike.

But as he walked toward the last place he remembered Mike being in, Davy heard a growl. He also felt his antennae twitch with energies he hadn’t felt before.

“All right,” he said to himself. “What’s going on?”

 

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3154352)

Hematite stared at the two dragons currently occupying the pad. They were different. The rain whispered its secrets to him, his ears filling with strange music, the raindrops showing him a different sight from what was in front of him. They were tied so tightly together, the lines of fate between these two closely intertwined with two others that stretched away.

Suddenly, something seizes hold of his tail. Hematite snaps out of his reverie to find that the Wildclaw has him in his grip and doesn’t look pleased at all.

“Can I help you?” Mike asked, “‘Cuz if you wanted to say hi, the front door’s right over there, and normally I’m a real hospitable type. Thing is, I don’t rightly appreciate bein’ spied on in my own home.“ His voice was hard. His accent was a lot stronger as well.

“Now I know that maybe y'all do some things different here, but where I’m from, a man likes to know that he’s gonna get some privacy in his own home. And if he can’t get that, well a man’s likely to get real annoyed with anyone who might just come pokin’ around uninvited. Y’see what I’m sayin’?”

Davy walked into the room to see Mike holding a Spiral up by the tail.

“Mike! What is this?” Davy said, scowling. “And who are you?”

“I-I-I-I-I’m Hematite. An-an-an-and I’m sorry to-to-to-to-to bother you…” he stuttered, squirming in Mike’s grasp, “but-but I have to tell you…” His eyes flashed deep blue.

“ _The earth is robbed of its senses when the fabric is torn apart,_ ” he intones. Suddenly he twists around and sinks his teeth into Mike’s hand. Mike yelps and releases the Spiral, who zooms off into the jungle.

Mike flexes his hand in response to the pain, wincing as he did so. That _hurt_. Closer inspection revealed that Hematite’s teeth had in fact drawn blood. Great. It was probably going to get infected too. Except… Mike held his hand up to the light and frowned. His blood was brownish.

“I really hope this is normal…” he muttered.

“Right, and what was that about?” Davy said, still scowling. “Some kind of prophecy or something? Whatever it is, it didn’t sound good.” He moved closer to get a look at Mike’s claws. “Hey, are you all right? Should we go find a doctor….or whatever it is they have around here.”

Davy figured that the dragons had to have someone to take care of them if they got injured, though he did wonder how to find such a person and how to convince Mike to go along. Mike didn't care for doctors all that much, at least not when it came to himself.


	16. Chapter 16

Micky had finally stopped talking and was just continuing to scratch Peter behind the ears. He knew he’d hate it when Peter finally left, but he knew he couldn’t ask the bassist to stay either.

Peter flopped on the floor and purred as Micky scratched his ears. That felt good.

Micky sighed. As much as he enjoyed having Peter around, he knew that this wasn’t helping him get anything done.

“Pete, I….maybe you should head back to the pad. You know Mike will be worried about you.”

Peter’s face fell.

“Yeah… But you’ll stop by soon, right?” he asked hopefully, sitting up and bumping against Micky gently.

“Of course I’ll stop by Pete,” Micky assured him. “Who would Davy had to throw fireballs at if I didn’t drop in once in a while.” He laughed a little and then swallowed hard. “And uh, please keep an eye on Mike too, ok?”

Peter nodded, his face turning serious.

“Of course I will Micky.” he said, giving him one last bump before spreading his wings and bounding off.

Micky waved at Peter vigorously as the Tundra flew away. The moment Peter was out of sight though, he hung his head, instantly depressed.

Micky concentrated again. He had managed to summon one scroll to the room thus far and was hoping to get more stuff transported. The problem was that he knew that the stuff he wanted was at the pad, but he couldn’t always remember where exactly he had put it. 

It was a slow, frustrating process, but at least it was providing a distraction.

* * *

 

“Maybe…” Mike conceded as he continued to stare at the blood dripping off his hand. The wound hurt, and he didn’t think they had an emergency kit here. Plus there was no telling what sort of germs might be in a dragon's mouth.

Thing is… it was still raining, and though it seemed to be lightening up, Mike was in no hurry to venture out into the wet unless he absolutely had to. Besides, the bleeding was stopping on its own. A bit of blood dripped off his hand… fell to the floor… and went ‘clink’.

“Hang on, what was that?” Davy said. He leaned his head toward the floor. “Mike…look at this.”

Davy picked up what looked like a gemstone and held it up for Mike to see. That couldn’t have come from Mike. Could it? 

“This just keeps getting weirder and weirder….” he mumbled to himself.

Mike peered at the stone in Davy’s claws. It was the same color as his blood. He glanced at his hand. His wounds had stopped bleeding but it looked as though the blood had beaded up over it. Gingerly, he prodded one of the beads. It was solid.

“Uhh….”

“All right, so maybe you’re not bleeding now…but Mike, you were bleeding stones,” Davy said. “I don’t think we should just ignore that.”

Davy frowned. He wasn’t fond of the prospect of going out in the rain either, but this could be serious. Thankfully, the rain was down to a light sprinkle.

“Come on,” he said, motioning with his head. “We’ve got to find someone who can tell us what’s happening here. And if there’s anything like dragon rabies in this world.”

Mike nodded his acquiescence as he followed Davy out. The dragons had to know what this was.

“Felara should know who the doctor around here is…”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Davy nodded. He frowned again as he stepped outside into the damp air, but it was lessening up even more as they walked. Davy hoped that what was happening to Mike wasn’t serious. 

Or the beginning of even more problems.

There were actually some dry places under the trees, though they didn’t connect with the pad. The two of them made use of them as they made their way to Felara’s bar.

Felara looked up as the two approached.

“Hello boys! What are you doing out in the damp? You hungry?”

“Um a little,” Davy admitted. “But that’s not the reason we’re here. Mike got hurt. Some dragon came in our pad and bit him. And he started bleeding these.” He held up the stone he had picked up from the floor. “Is there a doctor or someone we can see to make sure Mike’s all right?”

“May I see the bite?” Felara asked. Mike held out his hand. “These look like Spiral teeth,” the Snapper said thoughtfully, “Oh. It was Hematite wasn’t it.”

“How did you know?” Mike asked suspiciously.

“I saw him zooming off in your direction earlier. He’s actually pretty shy. He also has pretty bad anxiety, something which his Gift doesn’t help at all. Speaking of which, did he say anything odd?”

“Yeah he did,” Davy nodded. “Something about how the Earth will lose its sense if something’s torn. Or something like that. It didn’t make any sense. Is Mike going to be all right? He won’t get…sick or anything, will he?”

“Oh he’ll be fine. Earth dragons are fairly resilient, and it’s not like Hematite is a Plague dragon or anything. You could always stop by and see Limieth if it seems to get worse, but it looks pretty clean to me. Just don’t go picking at the scabs.” She was quiet for a moment.

“I’d also advise you to remember Hematite’s words. It may not make sense, but his Sight is extremely strong. Unfortunately, this comes with a bit of a curse, in that he can’t speak plainly with regards to his visions, even if he wants to.”

“Well that’s not surprising,” Davy smirked. “Mike always was a hearty type. But hang on, are you saying that it’s normal for ‘im to bleed stones like this? And are you saying that other bloke, Hematite, can see the future or something? What’s it mean?”


	17. Chapter 17

Micky stared at the things in front of him, exhausted. He had only managed to get a third of the scrolls he was working on over there, but it was already too much for him to want to continue further. He had also managed to get a small pile of gourds transported into the room, but he had no idea how that happened.

He wanted to sleep, but he wasn’t sure where to do it here. 

He zoomed around the room anxiously. He would have drilled himself into the wall to sleep, but he wasn’t sure how that would be taken as this wasn’t his home really. But he also didn’t want to sleep in the open. So he ended up flying back and forth, trying frantically to figure out where he should sleep.

Eventually, the decision was made for him as he suddenly passed out and plopped onto the floor.

Micky’s sleep was not a restful one.

Instead of feeling snug and secure while he slept, he felt exposed and vulnerable. The result were nightmares. Nightmares that were made up of memories that were jumbled together. Times when he and the rest of the guys were in some kind of danger. 

He thrashed about while he slept, unable to feel any sort of peace.

* * *

Mike stared off into space, struck with a mounting sense of unease. It wasn’t about his blood though, that much he was sure of. He touched his shoulder absently where Micky usually coiled.

“Sure. A dragon’s blood is heavily infused with their element. Mike is Earth, so his blood turns to stone when he’s injured. My blood on the other hand…” Felara picked up a knife and made a small nick in her arm. Her blood was dark and purplish, oozing out of the cut. She cackled at their expressions.

“As for Hematite, yes he can see the future. What it means though… I can’t help you with that.

Davy flinched and made a face of slight disgust when Felara cut herself, but managed to stop himself from commenting on it. Apparently, it wasn’t a big deal to get a small cut around. Probably good to know as it could happen to him at some point.

“You don’t think this bloke Hematite is sore with us or anything?” Davy asked. “He did bite Mike, after all.”

“I grabbed him first.” Mike reminded Davy. “It’s not like he flew in and just bit me b’fore flyin’ off.” He fell quiet again, shifting in place as he stared off into space, head unconsciously turned in the direction of Micky’s new home. His eyes stung with unshed tears. Something was wrong. He couldn’t place it, but he just knew something wasn’t right.

“You probably just scared him. He’s very high strung, even for a Spiral. Speaking of Spirals, where’s your friend? Micky, was it?”

“Oh him?” Davy said, glancing over at Mike before turning his eyes back to Felara again. “He’s…he’s spending some time by himself. Said something about wanting to learn more about his magic. Can’t say I blame ‘im. Arcane magic seems kind of weird. It’s not like fire or wind or earth, is it?”

Davy felt a tiny tremor in one if his antennae. He wasn’t sure what was causing it. It didn’t feel exactly like magic. More like someone was trying to look at something.

“Or Shadow.” Felara agreed. Her dark eyes twinkled and ghostly silhouettes flickered in the corners of their vision. “Shadow only hints at the monsters. Arcane makes them real.”

Mike’s hackles went up and he growled in response to the flitting illusions. Even after Felara banished them he remained on edge.

Davy shuddered at the shadows Felara had created. He knew they weren’t real, but he could feel them come into being anyway. It didn’t help that they also seemed to unnerve Mike.

“Wait…you mean Micky could create monsters?” he asked. “Just like that?”

“Not quite. He can’t create them, but he could call them forth into this plane of existence. That’s more of a danger for higher-level mages though. He should be fine.”

* * *

After yet another nightmare of a giant metal cylinder rolling after him, Micky woke up with a gasp, his eyes bulging open. He wondered why he was having a hard time moving when he suddenly realized that he had somehow gotten himself tied into a knot while asleep.

Unable to keep his pent up sadness and frustration bottled up any longer, he started to sniffle.

After a few moments of mostly silent sniffling, Micky decided that he really wanted to get free of this knot. He kicked his legs about and tried moving his head every which way to loosen his body. 

Then he heard a rumble. What was that? Another dragon? Or something else? Something like that plant monster….

Micky yelped and redoubled his efforts. He yelled and squirmed and plopped back and forth, trying desperately to get untied and off the floor. Unfortunately, this also meant that every loose object in the room flew around at a manic pace.

[ ](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3100764)

Aetherial landed on a branch. There was someone new here in the Tree. She could feel their magic. Curious, the Imperial poked her head into the opening of the room and saw a crimson spiral tangled up on the floor.

“Are you ok?” she rumbled.

Micky yelped again and looked toward the source of the voice he had heard. He saw another dragon, a type he hadn’t seen before, staring back at him.

“Hi,” he said, embarrassed. “I um, well….I’m kinda tangled up and well…could you help me out?”

“Hmm…” Aetherial said as she inspected the Spiral. She pushed her head further into the room, and suddenly seemed to shrink to a more reasonable size. She was still much bigger than Micky, but not by quite as outrageous a margin. She helped him get himself unknotted.

“There you go. That better?”

Micky gaped at how big she was and how she seemed to change size, but had remained silent and still while she worked. When she was done, he started to hover, albeit wobbly. 

“Thanks,” he said, his voice shaky. “Who…who are you?”

“Oh I’m Aetherial. I live a few chambers over. I haven’t seen you around before. What’s your name? When did you get here?”

“I’m Micky,” he said, trying to smile at her. “And I just moved here today. Zelioth suggested it. Um, what kind of dragon are you? I haven’t seen anyone like you before.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Are you sure about that?” Davy asked. “I mean, are you really sure? Did you hear about how he blew up that plant monster? He wasn’t supposed to be able to do that either, from what I’ve heard.”

“Did he? Interesting.” she said thoughtfully. “I’m hardly an expert in Arcane magic, but that’s very impressive. Still, considering how close you guys are… are you sure it’s a good idea? You’ve only been dragons for a few days. I doubt that’s long enough to get used to everything here.”

Mike nodded slightly, still on edge from the shadows Felara summoned. His quills lowered back into his feathers as he stared off into the distance, not really seeing his surroundings. It seemed unreal, like something out of a fairy tale.

“It’s not the best idea, no,” Davy said, giving Mike a pointed look. “But Micky seems scared about using his magic accidentally. I just hope he doesn’t hurt himself or something….or summon up some monster.”

Mike caught that remark and turned to glare at Davy.

“If you think it’s such a bad idea then why don’t  _ you _ go convince Micky to stay with us?” he growled. Several pebbles leapt into the air momentarily. Mike’s tail lashed back and forth, his claws flexing and digging into the ground as he fought to reign in his temper.

Felara watched with interest, dark violet eyes watching their interactions. She set two dishes on the counter. That usually helped. She made a point to feed everyone who came by, and these guys looked like they needed it.

“Maybe some food would help?”

Davy flinched, but did not stop glaring. “I would. In fact I will. At the very least, I’d let him know it is a bad idea and made sure he knew why I thought so. He needs people to tell him that stuff, Mike. Even here, it’s not like he can read minds.”

Davy sighed and shook his head. He turned his attention to Felara, determined to drop the subject for now. “Thank you,” he said, giving her his most charming smile.

Mike stared at the food. It looked delicious, but the memory of feasting with the Mirror pack was still fresh in his mind.

“I’m not hungry. I ate earlier.” he said, turning away. “Thanks for your help ma’am.” he added, bobbing his head respectfully before wandering off. He didn’t want to deal with Davy right now. Not when Davy was right. He hadn’t tried that hard to convince Micky to stay. He hadn’t been thinking clearly. All he could think of was how much he wanted Micky to stay. And he wasn’t ready to admit why to _ himself _ , let alone Micky.

It was just nerves. That’s all.

Felara watched him go. He  _ was _ an odd one…

“Is he always like that?” she asked Davy.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” Davy snorted. “He’s always been a bit moody as a human. But it’s like it’s become worse as a dragon. And now with this thing with Micky….”

Davy dug into his food and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Wonderful food. Thank you, Felara.” Deciding that an explanation is in order, he decided to elaborate.

“Ever since we’ve known each other, Micky’s been the one who has known how to handle him. And now that he’s not living with us….it’s sure to get worse.”

“Still, he must have a good reason, right?” Felara prompted. She was quite curious to know more about the four of them, particularly the Wildclaw.

Davy sighed and shook his head. He wasn’t sure how to explain in a way that made sense to other people. Or didn’t make them all seem even stranger than he was sure they already appeared to everyone around here.

“Mike’s not big on other people,” he replied. “Oh sure, it’s not as if he despises them or anything like that. But it’s as if he prefers his own company to most everyone else. Even though it does get him started on a bloody pity party eventually.”

Davy sighed again and traced a claw over the table top. “But for some reason, he likes Micky. Likes being around him even when it seems like he’d be annoyed by the stuff Micky does. Sure, he cares about me, Peter and Micky….but I’d kidding myself if I didn’t realize that he cares about Micky more.”

Felara nodded.

“I think I understand. What’s he like otherwise though? When he’s not engaged in, as you said, ‘a bloody pity party’?”

“He’s…well, he’s a stand up bloke, really,” Davy said, feeling a touch guilty over how he had portrayed Mike. “He’s always helping people out. Taking care of me, Micky and Peter. He’s quiet, but he’s pretty funny when he wants to be. And he’s got talent…not that he’ll admit it. I mean, talent at singing and music and stuff.” Davy frowned and looked out where Mike had left.

“He’s had it rough in life,” he continued. “At least, we’re pretty sure he did. He doesn’t talk about his background much. And I don’t know if he’s ever really gotten over that.”

“Is that why he’s so thin?” Felara asked. She had noticed that the Wildclaw was considerably underweight for one of his breed. They were all pretty thin, but the Wildclaw was almost painfully so. She was a bit concerned when he’d turned down her food. He didn’t look like he could afford to miss meals. “Poor drake…”

Davy nodded. He didn’t like to think about Mike being sad and suffering, but it was hard to deny it. It was just something the rest of them didn’t think much about normally. Or didn’t want to think about. In their minds, Mike was the strong one, so it was disconcerting to think that that might not always be the case.

“Although, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure why he’s not eating now,” Davy said. “Your food is delicious and it’s wonderful to have plenty of it for a change. We usually can’t afford to eat so much regularly.”

“But he takes care of you.” Felara said thoughtfully.

“Well, yeah,” Davy said. “Sure, we don’t always have a lot of money because of bills or lack of work, but Mike’s usually the one who gets us the work we do get. And he makes sure to stretch out our food as much as possible. And he takes care of our house. And helps us out when we’ve got problems.”

Davy scowled. He hadn’t thought about how much Mike was usually taking care of things for them. It was another one of those things that he, Micky and Peter didn’t put much thought in. Mike just…stepped in whenever something needed to be done.

“Except that was before, wasn’t it. Before you came here. Now it seems like he’s the one who needs to be taken care of. And I wager he’s not too pleased about that.” She didn’t know him, really, but she knew that Wildclaws tended to be prideful as a whole, and surely they had taken a form that reflected their personalities?

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Davy said. “Mike never has been one who wanted to be minded. Problem is, he most likely needs it now and he won’t take it. So I don’t know how anything supposed to get better around here.”

Davy finished the rest of his dish in silence. He never did like trying to handle the interpersonal problems of the group. Straightforward and head on were his preferred methods of dealing with things. But none of that seemed to be working here which left Davy with very little idea of what to do next.

“Hmm. Well how about I pack this up for you to take back with you for when he does get hungry, okay dear?” Felara went to work wrapping up Mike’s food in broad leaves for Davy to take home.

“Oh yes, thank you, Felara,” Davy grinned at her. “And thank you for the talk. You’ve been very kind to us every since we got here.”

“It’s no trouble.” Felara said with a hearty chuckle. “I’m always looking for new stories, and yours look to be quite interesting.”

“Yeah, it’s interesting all right,” Davy said with a rueful smile. “It’s been interesting from day one when I met these guys. See you later and thank you again.”

Davy stepped outside, happy to see that the sun was starting to come out again. He clutched the food closer to him and took off into the air.


	19. Chapter 19

“I’m an Imperial.” she said. “When did you arrive in the Clan? I’ve been a bit out of the loop lately.”

“Uh, I just got here a few days ago,” Micky said. “Wow, an Imperial. Man, the dragons here just keep getting bigger and bigger. I thought Blutigenacht was big.” He glanced up at her eyes. “Hey, you’re an Arcane dragon too, huh?”

“Yeah. Been here for a while though. What news is there from the Isles? Did they ever figure out how to transmute food types without alchemy? I heard they were working on that. Where in the Isles are you from?”

“Uh…Isles?” Micky said, scratching his head gingerly. “I’m not really from the Isles. I’m from Earth…um, the planet Earth. Not the magic type. I’m not really a dragon. Well, ok, I am a dragon now, but I wasn’t always one….”

Micky had realized before how strange this all seemed, but nothing drove it home better than trying to explain it to someone else.

“Have you been getting high off my alchemy regents?” Aetherial asked, her whiskers flicking. The Spiral was making no sense.

Micky laughed. Getting stoned seemed like a great idea right now, but figured he should just try harder to explain himself.

“You might have to talk to Felara or Mnissath to get a better idea of what’s going on,” he said. “But the bottom line is, I’m not from this world originally. Somehow I got turned into a dragon and have these magical abilities now too. And uh…well, me and my friends are trying to figure this all out.”

“Huh. That’s interesting. I will definitely talk to Felara, because that sounds ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I know it’s really weird,” Micky laughed. “But I swear, it’s the truth. Honest.”

Micky fell silent, unsure of what to say that might make Aetherial more at ease around him. Then, he thought back to his conversation with Zelioth and an idea occurred to him. An idea he hoped would work.

“Say, uh,…where I come from, people have gone out into space.”

“They what?” Aetherial said incredulously. “You’re kidding. H-” She is cut off by a muffled boom that rocks the tree.

“Shards!” she yelps. “I left the brew boiling didn’t I? Shade take it! I gotta go, sorry. I’ll see you around I guess.” She leaves in a hurry.

“Oh uh, bye, see ya,” Micky said, waving as she dashed away. He was glad that she seemed interested, but now that she was gone, he was back to being alone again.

“Maybe I can try to teleport more of my stuff,” he sighed, dejected.

* * *

 

Mike traipsed back to the pad, hoping the familiar surroundings would make him feel better.

They didn’t.

He looked around the place, a growl of dissatisfaction bubbling in his throat. This wasn’t home. He wanted to go home. Wanted to be surrounded by all the old familiar decorations and posters, to look out the windows of glass at the beach, to hear the gentle roar of the surf…

He kicked something. Someone had left some bottles of… paint? He stared at them blankly for a few moments before seizing one. He popped open the bottle, stuck a claw in, and proceeded to paint the walls almost feverishly in bold patterns.

Mike continued to paint the walls of the pad with a variety of warm earthy tones, deep reds, oranges, browns, yellows… even some purples and blues. Soon however his painting spree came to an end as he ran out of pigments. He blinked, staring at the wall before him as if seeing it for the first time.

What was he doing? He wasn’t… did he really just do that? Why? He didn’t do art like this. What the hell? And why did he get such a sense of satisfaction looking at it? Alarmed, he retreated to the one place he’d really felt secure in. Not his room, but the bath. 

He burrowed into the substrate and trembled.


	20. Chapter 20

Eventually, Micky decided to give up.

He had gotten most of his Arcane study material to where he was and was too frustrated and tired again to keep trying to get more of it. So he decided he’d spend the rest of his energy working through the texts that Nisha had suggested the last time they saw each other.

Except, now he was bored.

Micky shuffled through his texts. He remembered Nisha mentioning something about how to make tiny explosions that would create small plumes of rainbow colored smoke. 

And right now that sounded like the perfect project to keep him occupied.

* * *

 

Peter is engrossed in watching a bug crawling up a tree branch. It’s a neat bug.

It was in fact one of those fuzzy caterpillars. Peter felt a deep connection to the caterpillar, for he too was fuzzy and ate leaves. He watched its mandibles slice through the leaf it had crawled onto. He wondered what it would turn into when it metamorphosed.  


* * *

 

Things were not going as planned for Micky.

He had managed to find the text that described the spells he’d been looking for. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to pull it off quite correctly. So instead of small, carefully controlled, and colorful explosions, there were erratic, nerve-wracking explosions. None of them very big, but every one of them worrying to Micky because he wasn’t sure how powerful the end result would be.

Eventually, he gave up on this too and wound himself into a tight coil on the floor, sniffling again.

* * *

Mike remained buried in the soft, loose earth, only his head and the tops of his wings exposed.

What was happening to him? This wasn’t who he was. Why couldn’t he control himself? Painting the wall… His memory of that was clouded, fuzzy. As if it had only been a dream.

But it hadn’t been a dream. The paint on his claws proved that. Yet at no point had he thought to stop. It had seemed right. And now, as he scrubbed at his claws to remove the pigment, he realized he was growing hungry again.

He couldn’t be hungry again already. Not after the way he had…  _ feasted… _ earlier with the Mirror pack.

* * *

Davy arrived back at the pad and put the food away before going to look for Mike. As he did, he noticed that the pad had had some redecorating done. He felt the tiniest vibration of magic presence in the dust bath and guessed that Mike was there. He really wanted to ask about the painting, but decided he might as well wait until Mike was done in there.

* * *

Mike felt Davy moving around the main room, and attempted, with some success, to completely disappear into the dirt. He didn’t want to explain his painting spree. He wasn’t sure if he even could explain it.

* * *

Nisha landed on a branch of the Tree of Arcana, having finished hunting her lunch. Hmm… The energies of the Tree were different. Had someone else moved in? Curious, she circled the Tree until she found the source of the change.

“Micky?” she asked, perplexed. Why was he here? Wasn’t he supposed to be with his friends?

And why was he crying? She flew closer to the other Spiral on the floor.

“Hey, is something the matter?” she asked.

Micky yelped and leaped into the air while scrubbing his face. 

“Hey, uh, Nisha, hi,” he said, waving at her. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just…it’s nothing.” He rubbed his eyes one last time before moving closer to her. “Say, now that you’re here, I was wondering if you could give me some pointers on some stuff….”

“Sure! What do you need?”

Micky squirmed. Even though he was sure that Nisha wouldn’t judge him or anything, it still felt weird to make this request. “I’m having a hard time controlling my magic. It just…happens sometimes and I need a way to make it stop.”

He elaborated by mentioning what happened with the plant monster and with Elazerepth. Talking about it had made him anxious again and he started to zip around the room, trying to work off his nerves.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

“That’s interesting… It seems like you have more power than you can effectively use. That’s actually pretty rare. Usually with drakes with strong magic, they start out with a much lesser amount when born, and it increases as they age so they naturally become accustomed to controlling that much power. I suppose it’s because you’re already full grown? Hmm…. How old are you?”

“I’m twenty two,” Micky answered. “Um, years. In my time, I guess. Look, uh, I told Zelioth something about my life back on Earth and I think maybe I should tell you too.”

Thus, Micky told her about the strange craziness that followed him and his friends around. Things appearing from nowhere. Their clothing changing in an instant. Time that seemed to speed up and slow down. He still didn’t know what it meant, but he figured he should try to give her as much information as he could.

“Hmm… is that young for your species? You look young… How long does it take for your species to mature? You’re probably not too far past that yes? Because you look full grown.” She twisted around as she thought. “It sounds almost like you were manifesting arcane power even back then. Maybe you always had that potential? Maybe the fabric of space was thin and you unconsciously drew on it when excited… or perhaps it’s something else entirely. It only started once you four started really hanging out with each other? Some kind of sympathetic resonance maybe? What do you do?”

“Uh, it’s not that young,” Micky answered. “I mean, it’s young, but you’re considered an adult by then. I guess you’re considered an adult when you’re eighteen years old in our world.”

Micky listened as she explained her theory. It seemed sound on the surface, although that did make him wonder for a moment why what they used to do seemed so natural before.

“Uh…we’re musicians,” he answered. “We play music together. And when that weird stuff starts to happen…we just sorta roll with it.”

“Just sorta rolled with it…” Nisha said thoughtfully. “Have you tried doing that? Maybe your magic needs a more gentle approach, rather than using force. If you relax and let it just happen you might get better results.”

“Yeah, but that was different,” Micky replied. “When that stuff happened on Earth, we just ended up in goofy costumes or got a bad guy tied up on a chair or something. I wasn’t blowing things up or making crystal things appear on other people’s bodies.”

Micky looped about the room, his nerves getting riled up again. “And I’m not forcing it now. I’m not even trying to make this stuff happen. It just does.”

“Micky, you’re gonna get yourself knotted up if you keep on like that.” she observed. He was putting out a lot of stray energy, she noticed, and his power was scattered around him, twisting and tangling like a Tundra pelt in a bramble.

“Micky…. Micky! Take a deep breath. Relax. Can you do that? Just breath deeply. Now, I’m not saying you’re forcing your magic to happen, but that you’re trying to force it into a shape it doesn’t want. Does that make sense? It does take practice to discover what approach works best. Arcane magic can be very temperamental and everyone has to develop their own technique.”

Micky listened to what she said and tried to slow down his movements. Not that that was easy. He had always been fidgety as a kid and that hadn’t changed when he got older. Plus, it was getting harder and harder to shut himself off from the negative feelings and anxieties he had in his brain.

Still, something about what Nisha said made an odd sort of sense. “Forcing magic into a shape”. He thought back to the fantasy novels he had read as a kid. In all of them, magic was something people did to accomplish some goal.

But what if it’s not always like that?

Nisha spun in a circle, traced a few symbols, and murmured a phrase. 

“That should help.” she said, as the walls began to sprout branches that crisscrossed the room, silvery-white wood dividing the vast space into more comfortable chunks. There remained a good sized space in the middle, but the rest of the room was turned into a labyrinth, just the right size for a Spiral to thread their way through. Pinkish-purple moss created little nooks to hide in.

Micky’s eyes widened as he watched the room transform itself from a large, bare space to a tangle of branches and moss. What surprised him even more was how relaxing he found the change of surroundings to be.

“Thanks Nisha,” Micky said, his tone serious, but sincere. “This is much better. I guess….I guess I don’t know much about what makes Spirals comfortable.”

He punctuated his words by leisurely weaving around some of the branches closest to the center of the room. “And I thought about what you said. You mean that I should stop thinking of my magic as a tool, right? That I should think of it as part of me instead?”

“Of course it’s a part of you.” Nisha giggled, draping herself over a branch. “We are creatures of magic. It’s as much a tool as your claws are… or maybe that’s a bad analogy… because you can’t change the shape of your claws. At least it’s not recommended. But you can change the shape of your magic to better fit a spell. Like a blob of clay, albeit really stiff clay. Do you know what I mean? Trying to mold it into something useful is really frustrating and even when you think you’ve got something it can fall apart on you, so you add water to make it more pliable. Does that make any sense? And I’m glad you like the room. It really does help to have places to hide or to do laps.”

“It does,” Micky grinned, lazily weaving through some more branches. He marveled over how soothing the changes in the room affected his nerves. He thought about the things he used to find relaxing: swimming in the ocean, wandering around town, running around a carnival. He was uncertain about whether or not any of that would be enjoyable in this form. 

“I think I’m starting to get it,” Micky nodded. The only problem was, he wasn’t really sure if it would be so easy to follow through with those ideas.


	22. Chapter 22

Mike lurked in the dust, but the scent of food tickled his nostrils and he rose with a soft growl. He shook off the loose dirt and stalked out, heading straight for the fridge. There was food. He wanted the food. He did not want to talk to Davy. He opened the fridge and found the food. The food smelled good. He ate the food.

Davy glanced over at Mike before going back to taking care of his feathers. “You want to tell me why you decided to redecorate?”

“No.” Mike said shortly as he devoured the rest of his food.

Davy scowled. He didn’t really expect an answer, but Mike shutting him out like this was getting annoying. 

“What did you think about what Felara said?” he said, deciding to try a different approach.

Mike rested his hands on the table and bowed his head as he fought to rein in his temper. He wasn’t in the mood for this couldn’t he see that? Sure, Davy meant well, but his persistence was grinding on Mike’s nerves. He had made his decision. It had to be right. It HAD to be. They were counting on him.

“Look, I get that you think that this leader thing you’ve gotten into means that you do everything on your own,” Davy added. “But you can’t do things that way all the time. Not when it involves all of us.”

Mike growled softly under his breath. He hadn’t asked to lead them. He’d just turned out to be the best at keeping a cool head and keeping the others out of trouble. 

But that had been before. 

He gripped the edges of the table. He didn’t feel like much of a leader. Not with everyone else adjusting to their bodies so much more easily than him. Not when he kept losing his temper. Not when he kept spacing out and finding he had no recollection of doing something.

“An’ what, exactly,” he said in clipped tones, “do you want me to do? March down an’ demand Micky come back?”

“I’m not saying that,” Davy said, meeting Mike’s tone with an indignant expression. “I’m saying that you need to try harder to get Micky to come back. You know part of the reason why he left? Because you seemed ok with it. Maybe he had doubts about it, but letting him go the way you did told him that maybe he was right to have those doubts.”

Davy let out a long sigh and shook his head. He really didn’t like dealing with Mike when the Texan was in one of these moods. But he wanted things back to normal. At least as normal as they could be here.

Peter had left his bugwatching after the rather rude Fae had eaten his friend and drifted lazily back to the pad where he sprawled on the roof to enjoy the fresh air. He laid there, watching the birds flit about until…

* * *

“YOU TRY AN’ CONVINCE HIM THEN!!” Mike roared as his patience snapped. The edges of the table crumbled under his grip and cracks appeared in the floor beneath him. “I’M TRYING TO KEEP Y’ALL  _ SAFE _ . HE EXPLODED SOMETHING ON  _ ACCIDENT _ . Y’THINK I WANT THAT TO HAPPEN TO US? YOU THINK  _ MICKY  _ DOES? YOU CAN’T PROTECT AGAINST THAT!”

Davy backed away from Mike, his face grim. He instinctively raised a claw and ignited a fiery sphere which hovered around him in a slow circle.. 

“Of course I don’t want to get blown up,” Davy growled, his eyes fixed on Mike while still minding the sphere he was controlling. “But right now, I don’t know if I feel much safer around you when you’re like this.”

Mike flinched as if struck.

“I-… no!” he gasped. He backed up, before spinning and fleeing out the back door, his eyes filling with tears.

Peter leapt into the air in fright at Mike’s shouting and sped off towards Micky’s temporary residence. He knew Micky had said he wanted to get some things done… but he was also the only one who could calm Mike down.

He barreled into Micky’s room, nearly crashing into a blue and purple spiral as he skidded underneath some branches and cowered.

Nisha yelped as a large shaggy form blew past her.

“Peter?” Micky said, confused. That sure looked like Peter rushing into his place, but the Tundra had gone by so fast it was hard to tell. It was even harder to recognize it as Peter when Micky realized that this dragon was scared.

“Peter?” he said, looping around a branch and staring at the Tundra upside down. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Mike…” Peter whimpered, pawing the floor nervously. “Well, Mike and Davy… they’re fighting. About you.” He seemed to realize how that sounded and clarified. “I mean, about you staying away. Davy doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

Nisha tilted her head curiously.

“What’s going on? Who’s this?” she asked, flying over to inspect the Tundra.

“Uh, this is one of my friends, Peter,” Micky explained to Nisha. “And Mike and Davy are my other friends. We used to live together on Earth.”

Micky sighed and shook his head as he thought about what Peter had just told him. Davy always was headstrong and confrontational, preferring to meet conflicts head-on rather than dance around them. Problem was, that approach often led to problems when dealing with Mike. Looking back on it now, he really should have talked to Davy before leaving, but there was no point dwelling on that.

“Hey Pete, it’s ok,” Micky said gently. “You know those two butt heads a lot, but it’s no big deal. They’ll get over it. So… do you know where they are now?”

“The pad, I think…” Peter said, tail swishing. He shook his head. “Mick… this isn’t  _ like _ the other times.” he whined. “Mike was  _ yelling _ at Davy.” Mike was scary when mad. He didn’t get mad that often, but when he did it was usually a cold, hard anger. He didn’t scream the way he had roared at Davy.

“Maybe you should go?” Nisha suggested. “It couldn’t hurt.”

“All right,” Micky nodded. “Hey, Nisha… I know this is asking a lot, but could you tag along? Just in case Mike left. ‘Cause we don’t know this area really well and he might have gotten lost or something.”

“Oh sure it’s no trouble.” Nisha replied, uncoiling and rising into the air. She was curious anyway, and was looking forward to meeting Micky’s friends. Peter nodded, and launched himself into the air outside. He swooped around a little as he waited for them to follow. Nisha spiraled after him.


	23. Chapter 23

As soon as Mike took off, Davy put out the ball of fire and slowly walked toward the entrance of the pad. He hadn’t wanted things to go so badly with Mike. But right now…he wasn’t sure he really wanted to be around Mike either.

Mike ran, tears blurring his vision as he hurtled through the jungle. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to talk about it! He knew he was close to losing his temper. Why the hell couldn’t he control himself? He was trying to keep them safe! How could he do that if he couldn’t hold his temper? What part of “I don’t want to talk about it” did Davy not get? There’s a REASON he didn’t want to talk about it!

He ran, far from the safety of the clan, into the depths of the shadowy jungle, where the sunlight failed to penetrate. Carnivorous plants flailed at him but he moved too quickly to be bothered, choking pollen swirling in his wake, tendrils grasping at air. Smaller creatures fled as he seemed to appear right above them, for the Wildclaw moves silently even when it runs.

Something in the shadows growls.

Mike froze. He was deeper in the jungle than he had ever been before. Great trees cast deep shadows, and hidden creatures gave strange cries. At that moment, Mike felt human again.

That is to say, he felt like a bipedal ape-like life-form with two arms, two legs, no wings, and no real natural defenses. He also felt small, vulnerable, and acutely aware of just how little he knew of this place.

It was not a good feeling.

He didn’t belong here. He wasn’t a dragon. He might look like one, but he didn’t feel like one. And now he was deep in the jungle with no idea where the Clan was, and no idea how he had managed not to get lost before now.

And he wasn’t alone. There was something there with him. Something big. Bigger than he was. Much bigger. He could run, but that would only bring him deeper into the jungle, far away from any help and possibly into even worse danger. He spun around and nearly fell over as his body didn’t respond the way he expected to. He was in a dragon body. He stumbled.

Something roared. Mike saw a massive shape descend. He froze in panic…

* * *

Back at the pad, Davy continued to stew over what had just happened. He knew it wasn’t a great idea to upset Mike, but walking on eggshells around the Texan all the time wasn’t going to accomplish anything either. Like or not, Mike had to deal with the idea that he might not be able to do everything the way he liked anymore. Not here.

Still, the problem was getting Mike calmed down enough to listen to reason. Seeing few other options, Davy started to leave to head for the area where Micky was supposed to be.

He blinked in surprise when he saw Peter, Micky and another Spiral dragon meet up with him only a few yards from the pad.

“Micky? What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought Mike said you were going to live somewhere else?”

“I was…I am….I…..Nisha, this is my friend, Davy,” Micky said, unsure of how else to continue this conversation. “And you’ve already met Peter. Davy….what’s going on with Mike? Peter said you two were fighting.”

“We weren’t fighting,” Davy scowled. “Well, not really. I was just trying to get Mike to talk about stuff, but he just went all berserk and ran off.”

“Where?” Micky asked, his anxiety spiking.

“That way,” Davy nodded. “Into that forest there.”

“Oh dear.” Nisha said. “I hope he didn’t go too far, the deep jungles are extremely dangerous for the inexperienced. We’d better go after him before he runs into something. Peter, do you think you can follow his trail?” 

Peter sniffed the air, sneezed, and nodded. Mike’s scent was pretty clear.

“OK good. Stay close everyone. You really don’t want to get lost here.”

Micky shuddered and nodded. He didn’t like to think about going back into the deeper jungle and running into more monsters like that plant thing he’d run into. Then again, it might not be so bad this time. With Peter, Davy and Nisha here…well they should be able to handle anything that came along. Probably.

He looked over to see Davy scowling even more as he walked along. “Hey Davy, what’s wrong?” Micky asked. 

“This place,” Davy replied. ”Say, Nisha, right? Am I right in thinking that I probably would get into trouble if I used my magic here? Even if it’d probably be very useful against the monsters here?”

“You can, but you need to be extremely careful about it. Nature is super vulnerable to Fire, and since this is a Nature clan it is too easy for someone to get seriously hurt. One stray fireball and suddenly we’ve got a forest fire on our hands. Oh, that reminds me…” Nisha looped around to face Micky, “Micky, if ever one of Nature dragons should get mad at you? Run. Getting hit with Nature magic hurts. Arcane is really sensitive to Nature, and Nature is usually resistant to Arcane, so you gotta be careful.“

“He won’t have to run,” Davy growled. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“Davy…..” Micky sighed. There were times when Davy could be as bad as Mike as far as getting into confrontations. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to chastise Davy for wanting to protect his friends. “Ok, Nisha, I’ll make sure to do that. Maybe I’ll be lucky and won’t make any of them mad at me.”

Micky let out a short laugh, despite the sinking feeling inside him. He usually didn’t try to go out of his way to tick people off, but it seemed like it just happened every once in awhile anyway.

The party moved deeper into the jungle, the light fading as they moved away from the magical light sources the Clan used, the sunlight being blocked by the trees.

Suddenly, they hear the sound of a fight. Savage snarls echo from up ahead.

“Oh Arcanist…” Nisha mutters as she peeks through some vines. “Please don’t let it… oh. Holy fuck.”

It was a scene of devastation. _Something_ had been mauled into a near unrecognizable state. The only thing certain was that it wasn’t a dragon.

Micky trembled. It was clear that Nisha was upset and he dreaded finding out what it was that had horrified her.

“Wha-what is it?” he said in a squeaky whisper. “It’s not…it’s not….”

Micky gulped while Davy’s breath caught in his throat. The two of them slowly made their way toward the vantage point Nisha had and peered in.

What they saw sickened them. Blood and viscera was scattered across the smallish clearing, covering not just the ground, but also dangling from the branches that arced overhead. 

What scared them the most though wasn't the carnage. No, rather it was what was standing in the middle of it all.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The predator awakens.

_ The Wildclaw sensed it was being watched and spun. It flared its wings and shrieked in challenge, leaping into the air to brandish bloody talons, daring anyone to come closer. When none did, it stepped back and ruffled its feathers, preening for a few moments, before delicately seizing a chunk of flesh in its teeth and gulping it down. It made a soft churring noise as it did, seemingly pleased. _

* * *

 

“That…that’s not Mike,” Micky said, his voice quaking. “It can’t be.”

“It…looks like him,” Davy said, his tone subdued. “Nisha…there aren’t any other Wildclaws in the Clan, are there?”

“No!” Micky hissed. “That can’t be Mike. Look at him. Look at his eyes. That’s not him. It…it can’t be.”

“It can’t be. I….”

Micky fell silent. Part of him was pretty sure that he was wrong, despite what his sense were telling him. But if that was Mike….

….what had happened to his best friend?

Nisha was shaken. The carnage…. she’d lived in the Clan almost since it was founded, and she’d never seen this level of brutality before. The reactions of the others didn’t help either. This was supposed to be their friend.

“No… there aren’t any other Wildclaws in the clan…” she whispered hoarsely.

Peter whimpered.

* * *

 

_ The Wildclaw tilted its head. It heard something. Was it prey? Curious, it stalked over to where the four others were hiding. They didn’t look like prey, but why were they there? They didn’t seem to want to attack… _

_ The wildclaw waited, concealed only a few meters away. What did they want? Food? Fight? Fuck? The noises they made were familiar… but not quite enough that he could understand. Still… one sound stood out, stirring something in the back of the Wildclaw’s mind. _

_ Mike? _

_ What was... ‘mike’? _

* * *

 

Davy backed up closer to Peter, but was also preparing some fire spells in his head in case he needed them. He really didn’t want to have to attack Mike, but then again, he wasn’t sure if Mike was even in that body anymore.

Meanwhile Micky whimpered when he realized that Mike could see them watching him and had started to move closer to them. Micky could feel the magic inside him building up again and at that moment, he wasn’t sure what terrified him more: the fact that Mike was acting like a crazed animal or the possibility that he could accidentally lash out at Mike magically like he did with the plant monster.

“M-mike,” he whimpered again. “Mike….please…..”


	25. Chapter 25

_ The Wildclaw stared at the Spiral unblinkingly. _

_ Mike… _

_ An image surfaced in its mind, of a creature that bore a vague resemblance to the Spiral, laughing and playing around, taking its his hand and running along sand… _

_ Mike… _

_ The feeling in the back of the Wildclaws mind grew stronger. _

_ Mike….. that wasn’t all of it. there was more. N… Ness? Nezn? Nesm… _

_ “ _ Nezzz…..mith?”  _ it growled very softly, sounding almost puzzled. _

* * *

 

Micky gulped. Whoever this was…they seemed to know something about Mike. Maybe…maybe they just needed to be reminded some more.

“Micky! Micky, what are you doing?” Davy hissed when he realized that Micky was moving closer to the Wildclaw.

“I, I don’t know,” Micky said softly. “But I gotta do something.” He inched closer and closer to…to what he hoped was still Mike, making sure to seem as nonthreatening as possible.

“Um, hi….remember me?” he said. “I’m Micky. Micky Dolenz. Remember….remember Mike?”

“Mi-cky Do…lenzzzz….”  _ the Wildclaw repeated. Suddenly it all came crashing back. _

“Micky!” Mike yelped, stumbling backwards. “What the… what are you doing here?! I thought you… where is here? What… what’s going on? Who’s that?”

Nisha jumped as the Wildclaws entire demeanor changed. No longer did he move with predatory ease, but rather he seemed awkward in his body, as if he didn’t quite know how it was supposed to work. It was a stark contrast to the feral demeanor he bore moments before. 

Micky let out a shaky breath, instantly relieved when Mike started acting like himself again. 

“It..it’s ok, Mike,” he said. “That’s Nisha. She’s been helping me with my magic. And…and you know Peter and Davy…right?”

Micky wished he could forget about what had just happened and move on, but he knew that was impossible. Still, he saw no point in interrogating Mike about it yet. 

Not when Mike didn’t seem to know what was going on either.

“What… of course I know Davy and Peter,” Mike responded confusedly. “I… why are y’all looking at me like that?”  


“You… you don’t remember?” Nisha asked. 

“I remember… running through the jungle…” Mike said hesitantly, “an’ then… there was somethin’ there… an’… an’ th’ next thing I know y’all are looking a’ me like I’m…” he trailed off, a creeping feeling of dread rising inside of him.  


“M-Micky?” Mike’s voice cracked in fear. “What… what did I do?” he asked, terrified of the answer that he knew was coming. It had finally happened, hadn’t it. “Did… did I hurt someone?”

“Um…..” Micky said, swallowing hard. “I don’t think it was someone. Not a dragon anyway. Uh, Nisha, can you…do you have any idea what it was?”

He knew he was dodging the point that…whatever it had been, Mike had made it mostly unrecognizable. For a moment, Micky was reminded of the time he had gone with his father to a slaughterhouse that belonged to a friend of the family. He hadn’t gotten sick off what he had seen, but it did creep him out.

And right now, seeing Mike covered with blood and gore, it was hard to shake that same feeling. 

“Mmm… I think it was a Vesk’aath. Nasty things… I didn’t realize there was one in the area,” Nisha shuddered. “Usually they stay well away from the Clan’s grounds. I wonder what brought this one this close?”

Mike turned to see what she was looking at, and froze in shock at the sheer carnage littering the landscape.

“No…” he whispered. “I….” He looked down at himself, saw the gore covering him, the blood, none of it his but it still smelled… it still smelled  _ good _ .

“NO!!”

_ He had no memory of this. _


	26. Chapter 26

“Hey, hey, Mike calm down,” Micky said gently. “It sounds like this was something that probably attacked you first, ok? You were just defending yourself.” Granted, Mike had apparently defended himself in possibly the most brutal way he could, but Micky couldn’t fault him for that. Not when he had blown a different monster up.

“Mike... these things happen,” Davy said, looking to the side. “I had to roast something myself earlier. You don’t really want to do it…but you don’t have a choice either.”

“Nisha,” Micky said, turning to her, his tone frantic. “Isn’t there anyone we can talk to about this? Someone who knows a lot about Wildclaws?”

Mike was shaking in terror.

“But-but you _remembered_ doing it!” he cried, still panicking, too worked up to give a damn about how he looked to the others. He needed to get clean. Needed to get away. He clamped his wings tightly to his body as he trembled.

“Let’s get him home first,” Nisha suggested. “I’ll send Razirith to take care of the mess don’t worry. Come on. We can figure this out when we get there.”

Numbly, Mike followed the Spiral as she flew back towards the pad.

“If there’s anywhere that has a bunch of dust somewhere on the way home…I think we should stop,” Davy said awkwardly. “Trust me….he’d feel better if he could get some of that off.”

Micky blinked in confusion, but nodded. That seemed like a strange thing to worry about right now. Then again, the presence of all that blood on Mike made it hard to think calmly about what to do next.

He wanted to say something to Mike. Something that would make the Texan feel better, but he had no idea what that could be.

Nisha pointed to a fallen tree branch that had created a little sheltered spot where the rain didn’t fall and the ground was hard and dry.

“Is that what you mean?” she asked.

Mike ran over to the patch of dry earth and began scrabbling at it, loosening it up with his claws before frantically rolling around in it to scrub the blood from his feathers. After a few minutes of this he stopped his frantic thrashing and instead just laid there, half buried, in the hole he had dug. It calmed him, being covered in dirt like that. He felt steadier. Grounded.

Micky watched this silently, his concern growing. He couldn’t blame Mike for wanting to get all that gore off of him. But something about the way that the Texan was thrashing about made Micky think that this was about more than just getting clean. At least, physically clean anyway.

“Um, Nisha... are there things like…uh…ghosts or spirits in this world?” he asked. He surprised himself by asking that, but…he couldn’t think of many ways to explain what he had just seen. How Mike had seemed to be…not Mike somehow. As if something else had possessed him.

“What? You don’t really believe in that stuff, do you?” Davy asked, incredulous.

“Oh sure there are,” Nisha responded as Davy gaped at her in disbelief, “but they shouldn’t be anywhere near the Clan. The wards keep out most of them, and Blutigenacht takes care of the nastier ones.” She chose not to mention the fact that their residence was commonly considered haunted by most of the Clan, since multiple investigations had revealed no evidence of anything paranormal or out of the ordinary. And they didn't seem to be bothered by it...

Mike took a couple of deep breaths and rose back to his feet, shaking off the dirt coating his body. He felt a bit better now that he’d gotten the gore off, though he still didn’t feel ‘clean’. Not with the memory of what he’d done still fresh in his mind.

“Let-let’s go.” he said hoarsely, and started back to the pad without waiting to see if they were following.

Davy shrugged and kept up the pace a bit behind Mike. Meanwhile, Micky moved closer to Nisha so he could talk to her quietly.

“Uh, are you sure those spirits…um…don’t possess people?” he asked. “I mean, dragons. I mean….aw, I don’t know what I mean…..”

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what to ask. A more logical question would have centered around Mike’s sanity or possible loss of it, but Micky refused to entertain that idea. He couldn’t believe that the Texan was losing his mind. There had to be some other explanation for what he had seen.

“They shouldn’t, but I can check if you want. I don’t think that’s what’s going on here though. He seemed more… feral, than possessed.” Nisha mused.

They arrived at the pad. Mike immediately sank down to the floor and curled in on himself, whimpering.

“Micky…” he pleaded, “d-don’t leave. P-Please.” He had never been so scared before. The vision of what he had done filled his mind whenever he closed his eyes, along with an undercurrent of... of _satisfaction_ that repulsed him, leaving him sickened by the knowledge that there was a part of him that had enjoyed that. He couldn’t be alone. Not now.

Peter picked up his guitar and began to play. He thought it would help. It had helped before when Mike started acting weirdly aggressive, and while he wasn’t like that now, it probably wouldn’t hurt. Peter was a firm believer in the power of music to heal and restore the mind. He was also a firm believer in soup, but he didn’t think that applied here. Besides, Micky would probably accuse him of trying to set Mike off again if he made soup.

Micky let out a long sigh and shook his head. He still didn’t think it was safe for him to hang around the pad. Sure, he got some ideas from Nisha about how to handle his magic, but none of those ideas had actually been put into any sort of practice yet. And Micky wasn’t sure what he would do if Mike suddenly went “feral” on him.

Still, it was impossible for him to want to argue with Mike when the Texan was like this.

“Ok, Mike, ok,” he said softly. “I’ll stay here for now.”

He reinforced his words by moving over to curl up against the back of Mike’s neck, carefully slithering so that he loosely wrap himself around Mike’s shoulders. Micky wasn’t sure if Peter’s music was helping Mike, but it was certainly helping him right now. Mike sighed in relief as Micky curled up on his back.

“Thank you.” he whispered. The weight of his noodly friend reassured him, his presence providing a deep sense of comfort to the terrified Texan. Pete’s music helped too, helped bring him back to reality. He blinked back tears. He thought he’d been finally getting used to being a dragon, but after this…

“Micky… I’m scared. I-it was like when I eat.”

Davy trotted over to join Nisha near the doorway of the pad. “Hey, could you show me where Micky’s stuff is?” he asked. “I think I should bring it all back here for now.”

Nisha nodded. It did seem that Mike benefited from the presence of his friend, and to her sight it seemed as though Micky's magic was more stable when in the presence of the Wildclaw as well. It was a surprising discovery. She would have expected his magic to be even _more_ turbulent after witnessing what Mike had done, and yet here, in the safety of their home, curled up on the Wildclaw's back, his magic was the calmest she had seen it yet.

“That's probably a good idea," she said thoughtfully. "I’ll show you the place. Try to keep up!” She winked at the Skydancer and zoomed off.

Davy smirked and took off after her. “Right. We’ll see about that.”

Micky didn’t notice Davy leaving though. Instead he focused on the music Peter was playing and on trying to comfort Mike. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the Texan this shattered and it scared him. In some ways, it scared him more than that scene in the jungle.

“Mike….it’s not like that every time, is it?” he asked. “I mean when we were eating some bug chips and lizards together, it wasn’t that way, was it? So maybe…maybe it’s just something weird going on right now.”

“I don’t know Mick. It’s like… the lizards were ok, but anything larger than that…” Mike shook his head, mantling his wings to hide his face.

“Hmm….” Micky said, absentmindedly brushing his tail over Mike’s shoulders. “When you were snacking…you weren’t as hungry, were you? Could that be what it is? Is it just because you get hungry?”

“I don’t know. Even when I was eating with those other dragons… I-I didn’t blank out… but I didn’t want to eat _that_ much.” Granted, it hadn’t felt as if he’d overindulged, but still he was uncomfortable with this newfound appetite. He wasn’t used to eating like that. In fact it wasn’t at all unusual for him to skip meals entirely back on Earth. He didn’t _mean_ to, usually, but he would get distracted by something and next thing he knows Micky’s wondering what’s for dinner when Mike hasn’t even eaten lunch. Or he ate maybe half a sandwich before forgetting about it.

“I dunno, babe, maybe that has something to do with it though,” Micky said. “You do seem to get a little…out of it when you’re hungry. Maybe it’s more serious if a dragon gets hungry than a human.” Truthfully, Micky was at a loss when it came to explanations. He still didn’t want to think that Mike was crazy….but having it be some kind of health issue still made more sense than some of the more out-there ideas he was entertaining.

“Yeah well you’n’Davy’n’Peter don’t blank out when hungry do ya? Only me.” Mike growled, before rubbing his face in frustration. “An that still doesn’t explain--” he gestured vaguely in the direction he had gone earlier-- “that. I wasn’t hungry then.”

* * *

Nisha giggled as she led Davy a merry chase through the trees, taking an incredibly convoluted path to the Tree of Arcana.

Davy felt a happy rush as he chased Nisha through the trees. He hadn’t realized how stressed out he had been until he finally felt some of it strip away as he weaved through branches in hot pursuit. It felt good to get out. To fly. To simply _be_ as he raced through the air.


End file.
